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O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 





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O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


BY 

ROSA MULHOLLAND 

(lady gilbert) 

AUTHOR OF “father TIM,” “ THE TRAGEDY OF CHRIS,” 
“the wild birds of KILLEEVY,” “dreams AND REALITIES,” ETC. 



NEW YORK 

P. J. KENEDY & SONS 

1916 


j 

\ 





O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


I 

The corkscrew road descends by a natural staircase 
into a valley, where the verdure is greener perhaps 
than anywhere else in Ireland. The sea at the foot 
of the vale is gradually revealed to the traveller by 
the parting of rounded and terraced bosses of bare 
mountains, which reflect rainbow-tinted lights from 
sky and ocean, and take an ethereal colouring more 
exquisite than the beauty of fresh flowers or the 
splendour of jewels in the sun. These are the hills, 
and this is the valley of the Burren of the Kings, 
and small be the wonder if the Kings of Burren 
fought hard to hold their own. 

In the heart of the vale, and up the sides of the 
barren grey rocks, as far as the grass can dare to 
creep, are the little cots and homesteads of the 
natives, flanked by the rich dark foliage of the elder 
trees, that in season shake out their fairy-like white 
blossoms round humble chimneys exhaling the 
pungent fragrance of burning turf. Here and there 
5 


6 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


the gable of a ruined church or a wrecked and 
deserted dwelling, or perhaps a melancholy moulder- 
ing group, still shows where the struggle of soul and 
body for leave to pray and live was for centuries 
carried on in this smiling region. 

One morning in the summer of 1746, a girl on a 
pony was coming down the road-staircase, the gleam 
of a white gown observable only by the goats and 
the landward-faring gulls, even when the rider with 
her unconventional garb and gear dropped into the 
grassy slopes between the road-flights, making 
short cuts into the valley. The girl on the pony 
was not in a hurry. She was young, and there was 
always plenty of time to spare in Burren. A few 
people were working in the fields, the women with 
their heads tied up in handkerchiefs, for the sun 
was strong. The solitary girl who was going down 
into the valley carried her black hat in her hand, 
reckless of sunburn or sunstroke. It was a long 
ride to the goal she had in mind, but she was taking 
it leisurely, rather as one who was anxious to spend 
the hours than to save them. Sometimes she dis- 
mounted, and while her pony munched the sweet 
short grass she sat for a while on the grey rocks, 
from which ferns and foxgloves rose up or dangled, 
and always there was a deep shadow in her eyes 
as if from a habit of sorrow or of bodily suffering. 

Down on the level road in the valley she went 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


7 


more quickly. Salutations were given her by those 
who met her, little children curtsied to her, and she 
nodded to all with a smile that brought a brilliant 
momentary light into her eyes, and was lost again 
in the shadows of her deep preoccupation. As she 
rode on, the land grew more bare and lonely, and at 
last the grey mouldering walls she was bound for 
came in sight. She had reached Corcomroe Abbey, 
an ancient Cistercian monastery that saddens with 
its shattered beauty a lonely spot between the 
gleaming crowns of the Burren Mountains. She 
left the pony at his grass, stepped through a gap in 
the broken wall, and entered the chancel by a door- 
way of finely cut stone, crossing the grassy floor 
that hid a little world of mortality, and reaching 
the sanctuary where the sunshine burned like a 
sacrificial fire on the altar stone, and illuminated 
the carven pfllars, their capitals formed of weird 
human faces, strangely grouped and typical of 
distinctly different nationalities. 

Familiar with the place, she walked leisurely in 
and out of the grassy aisles, where Gothic arches 
are so built up to stay ruin that their openings 
have become parts of the solid wall. In the chancel, 
roofed with the blue heavens, she stood musing. 
An army was buried under her feet. That might be 
hard to realise. But everything, thought the girl, 
is as hard to realise. One’s own existence and the 


8 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


reason for it are inconceivable. Brona at nineteen 
might not have had these thoughts if she had lived 
pleasantly amidst happy surroundings, but her 
days were bitter, and the purposelessness of things 
of this world sometimes dogged her better nature 
like a haunting shadow of evil, and threatened to 
destroy her faith. In this mood her own existence 
seemed as unreal to her as the dead warriors above 
whose heads she now stood, trying to imagine 
their forms, their armour, their noise, to build them 
up again out of their dust that had been flesh like 
her own, like the warm round wrist that she touched 
speculatively with her slender fingers. 

Not less of dust was she, who for the moment 
appeared to be something real and of lasting material. 
Whence come, whither bound ? For all her latent 
faith, inherent and invincible, Brona was a mystery 
to herself, and her sad musing habit which sprang 
from the deadness of her life, like some pale weed 
out of an uncared-for grave, led her often to this 
silent, forlorn ruin that once had been so vigorously 
alive with human movement, so loud with prayer 
and music, so resonant of the noise of war and dismal 
funereal cries, a shrine of God, sometimes a barrack 
for soldiers, a tomb where Masses were offered for 
the repose of the fallen brave. This is all that the 
greatest, the fiercest, the saintliest come to. The 
grass of the field, the nettle, the wild duck, and the 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


9 

dust and clay of which all are made lying undis- 
tinguished beneath them. 

She felt a solemn pleasure in gazing on all the 
features of the place ; the blue heaven above ; 
the lofty windows of sharply-cut stone round which 
the ivy hung ; the clustering faces on the pillars 
frowning and smiling in the strong sunshine ; the 
heavy shadows that draped the central walls ; the 
intense light on the forlorn sanctuary, on the altar 
stone ; the sedilia with its arches of exquisite 
carving ; the stone effigy of the King that lay in an 
alcove of the sanctuary, in crown and sceptre, with 
long locks, short robe, long cloak and quaint pointed 
shoes, the costume of the Irish Kings of his century. 
Flitting noiselessly about the place, the girl finally 
gravitated to this spot beside the King’s tomb, and 
resting on a pile of loosened stones and hardened 
earth, the upheaval and accumulation of ages, she 
sat gazing at the fallen King, marking the chips 
and notches in his mouldering grandeur. 


II 

The girl’s position in life was sad and difficult 
enough to account for her grave brows, and her 
habit of serious meditation. Hers were the days 
when the Penal Laws were still in force in Ireland. 
The price was on the priest’s head, and death the 
penalty of his ministrations of the Mass and Sacra- 
ment. If a Catholic gentleman still held his 
ancestral house it was on sufferance, as a castle of 
the air that might be blown away at any moment 
by the breath of the '' discoverer.” Any enemy 
or covetous person, a traitor in his family, a kins- 
man, or even an unworthy son of his own, might 
report him as a discovered ” Papist, and take 
possession of his property in the name of the law 
and as the guerdon of treachery. 

Such an Irish Catholic gentleman Brona’s father 
was, Morogh O’Loghlin, of the ancient family of 
the O’Loghlins, Kings of Burren, who continued to 
live modestly under the shadow of the ancient castle 
of his forefathers, contented with the state of peace- 


10 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


II 


ful insecurity into which Providence had ordered 
him. Devoted to study, he found forgetfulness of 
danger and difficulty in his own library, enjoying 
in imagination the privileges of ancient Greeks and 
Romans, and tasting with relish the liberty of life 
on the prairie, the sierra, and the desert. His gentle 
manners and cheerful philosophy had won him the 
respect and good will of his neighbours in the county, 
and though it was known that he harboured a 
Popish priest, fingered a rosary, and even wore a 
small crucifix under his garments suspended round 
his neck, no one of those favoured by the law had 
risen up to take advantage of it to dispossess and 
bring ruin to one so admirable in his endurance 
of adversity. 

Neither the son nor the daughter of Morogh shared 
his patience under the burden of their disabilities, 
but chafed at the chains on their youth the odium 
and insult cast on their religion. Brona who had 
lately come home from the school in France, where 
she had been sent after her mother’s death, had 
found with amazement that she was in some sort 
an outcast among the women of her own degree in 
her native country. On learning the inevitableness 
of her fate she had accepted it with courage, and 
wrapping herself in her pride she had kept close to 
her father, resolved to seek no countenance from 
a world that was disposed to think ill of her. 


12 


O'LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


Her brother Furlough was of a totally different 
mind, and resented furiously the injustice under 
which he was obliged to live. He also had been 
educated in France, and, restless at home, spent 
most of his time in Paris. He was as much disposed 
to be a king as any of his Dalcassian forefathers, 
and as eager for supremacy as those who delighted 
in wars for the maintenance of it, while abiding 
by their own admirable laws in times of peace. 
Furlough hated war as destructive of all pleasure, 
but as there were now no admirable laws to be 
obeyed, he did not feel bound by any laws in 
existence in his day. He scorned Morogh’s philo- 
sophy of endurance as a mean contentment with 
slavery, and took advantage of his father’s self- 
denying generosity to remain where he could live 
on a common footing with other young men of his 
rank, drowning in amusement the future of degrada- 
tion prepared for him in his own country. 

Fhe connection of the west of Ireland with France 
and Spain, traditional and practical, made it easy 
for the young man to live among gay friends in 
Paris, winning popularity by his handsome face 
and the charm of manner, half Irish and half 
French, which distinguished him when happy, but 
was unknown to the gloom of the Irish home which 
his presence darkened. Links with the Continent 
had always been kept up by the O’Loghlins. 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


13 


Morogh’s sister Aideen, the Marquise de Chevrieres, 
had married in France, and having lost her husband 
early she had returned to live with her brother, not 
denying herself an occasional visit to Paris. While 
Brona was there at school in one of the ancient 
convents now evacuated, her visits had been more 
frequent than now when her niece preferred to share 
her father's overshadowed life, rather than escape 
into the pleasanter milieu which her aunt had 
desired to provide for her. Secretly the Marquise 
admired the gay expensive tastes of her nephew 
more than the simplicity and quiet fortitude of her 
niece, and out of her own purse she contributed 
generously to enable the young man to make a 
brilliant figure in the salons and drawing-rooms 
of Paris. 


Ill 

The old castle of the O'Loghlins was in a half- 
ruinous condition, part only being habitable, but 
attached to it was a more modern dwelling, con- 
nected with certain apartments of the ancient 
structure, which were still sound and available for 
the uses of life. The new dwelling, which was 
about a hundred years old, was two-storied and 
straggling, with thick walls and low-ceilinged rooms, 
part thatched, and part roofed with the curious 
large thin slabs of the Donegore stone, of which so 
many uses are made in the County of Clare. With 
its back to the castle for shelter it faced the sea, 
and the approach to it was a narrow, hilly by-road, 
boring its way through the outskirts of a magnificent 
wood which wandered away on one side in the 
direction of a desolate stretch of bogland, encrusted 
here and there with rocks and ridges of limestone, 
and flecked with pools deep as mountain tarns or 
shallow as rain puddles. Besides their primary 
uses, woods and bogs seem to have been designed 
14 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


15 


by nature as shelter for the secret Mass, affording 
untrackable pathways for the feet of proscribed 
priests and their adventurous congregations. Above 
and beyond all rose the rounded bastions of the bare 
Burren Mountains, gleaming with opalescent colour, 
like fortifications of some fairy realm, bulwarks of 
some jewelled citadel in a dream. 

Within, the O’Loghlin homestead was comfort- 
able enough in a spare way, the antique furniture 
almost all of foreign workmanship, with here and 
there a solid oak piece hewn to shape by native 
hands, black and polished by the usage of time. 
The dining-room and drawing-room were in the 
newer building on the level ground facing the cliffs 
and ocean, the library was an apartment of the old 
castle on the same fiat, near it a spiral stair leading 
up to the “ peel tower, with its round room also 
in good preservation. In a corner of the library 
flooring was a trap door, leading down by a flight 
of steps to a subterranean passage, giving on the 
seashore through a natural gateway of the towering 
rocks that menaced approaching ships with wreck- 
age. Such passages had been originally designed 
for escapes and secret arrivals in time of war, and 
were often availed of for the reception of smuggled 
goods from continental ports in times of peace. 

O’Loghlin had no taste for trading, but there 
were others in the county who contrived, in defiance 


i6 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


of danger, to amass a fortune by such methods, and 
it was probable that the small chamber at the en- 
trance to the subterranean passage had been used 
for the stowing away of valuable contraband goods. 
It was ill- ventilated, yet with sufficient air through 
apertures contrived in the stone work above ground 
to enable life to exist within it, and at the time of 
this story it was the hiding place of Father Aengus, 
an Irish Franciscan friar, chaplain of the O’Loghlin 
household, and spiritual administrator and com- 
forter, by stealth and at the risk of his life, of the 
penalised Catholics for miles around. 

The little dungeon was a cell which the humble 
son of St Francis was glad to inhabit. A crucifix 
on the wall, a table with books and writing materials, 
a bed in the corner, were about all its furniture. 
When no particular scare was abroad, no warning 
of a visit from the priest-hunter. Father Aengus 
would give his company to his friend and protector, 
Morogh, and would sit with him in his library 
talking or reading. In times of danger he was 
buried in his cell, the door of which was not to 
be found except by the initiated. The greatest 
danger of all was faced when Mass was said on the 
rock altar of the bog, and the people were assembled 
to assist at it, or when the priest ventured across 
the land to the cots and hovels of the faithful to 
take the Sacraments to the dying. Each time his 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


17 


going forth from his hiding place under O'Loghlin’s 
roof was likely to be the last. That night the stars 
might look down on his corpse floating in the bog 
pool, or swinging from the roadside tree. 

Meanwhile the soul of his sainted patron of 
Assisi lived behind the pallid brows and soft, brown 
eyes of Father Aengus, eyes where human tender- 
ness and the strenuous energy of mystical devotion 
burned their imperishable fires. A slender figure 
in gown and girdle, brown as the bog-earth travelled 
by his sandalled feet in his Divine Master's service, 
he came and went by the secret stair, sometimes 
scarcely seen for days, at other times showing a 
cheerful and comforting face to the household. 
Beloved by all, from Morogh to the servants who 
whispered his name and watched at every outpost 
for his safety, he was worshipped by the countryside 
at large as God's visible messenger to the afflicted, 
a hero of the Cross, who daily courted death to 
carry them the saving grace which would enable 
them also to die, when necessary, with courage. 

A lamp was always burning in his cell where no 
daylight ever entered. One table was piled with 
books, the lives and writings of the saints ; another 
was covered with papers and pens and ink. Linked 
in spiritual descent with those Irish Franciscans of 
the ancient and demolished and ruined friaries of 
Quin (Quinchy the arbutus grove), of Ennis and 

2 


i8 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


others, Aengus, namesake and follower of the Rapt 
Culdee, kept a record of these evil days in Ireland, 
and of the harvest of glory reaped from the rack 
for God, writings to be conveyed when opportun- 
ity might arise to the heads of his Order in 
countries where Christian and Catholic worship 
was happily free. 


IV 

The Marquise de Chevri^res had the prettiest and 
most frivolously appointed chamber in Castle 
O’Loghlin. One could here see that though Aideen 
was Irish by birth, she was by a second nature a 
Parisian. Curtains of brilliant silk made much of 
the sunlight that got through the narrow windows, 
and many odds and ends of feminine fancy lay 
about among properties and furniture that had 
evidently been exiled from a French interior. 
While Brona was riding homeward, her aunt was 
busily engaged examining and spreading out on 
exhibition a number of pieces of rich silks, velvets, 
and laces, evidently taking great pleasure in her 
occupation. Now and again she went to the window 
that looked inland, and when at last she saw the 
girl on her pony approaching by the road between 
the bog and the wood, she threw over her head and 
shoulders a light scarf of a colour very becoming to 
her white hair dressed high, her dark eyes and 
healthy complexion, and taking her way out of 
19 


20 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


doors went quickly up the road to meet her brother’s 
daughter. Brona sprang from her pony, and walked 
beside her aunt back to the castle. 

** MacDonogh is here,” said Aideen, ” and has 
brought letters, besides a lot of interesting things. 
His ships got in the night before last. He is talking 
with your father. I think he will stay until to- 
morrow. No, Turlough is not coming. Now, 
don’t blame the boy. How can we expect him to 
bear this dreary life ? Yes, of course it is expensive 
in Paris and he wants money. I am sending him 
some. It is my own affair.” 

” You are unselfish. He is not,” said Brona. 
” Father needs him.” 

” We can do very well without him. Your 
father lived about the world a good deal when he 
was young. Let Turlough do the same. He can 
settle down later on. I wish you had a little of his 
spirit, Brona, to go abroad and enjoy yourself for 
awhile. There is plenty of time before you, apres, 
for a life of old maidenhood in a country suffering 
under tyrannical rule.” 

” Now, Aideen,” said Brona, ” how can you talk 
like that ? Have you not left your gay Paris to 
live with us here, willingly ? ” 

” That is different ! ” cried the Marquise. ” I 
have had my happy youth. I have lived my life. 
My husband gone, I have no more concern with 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


21 


the world. But you, who ought to have all that 
before you.” 

Brona shook her head. Nothing of the kind 
for me, dear auntie. Put it out of your mind. 
Mere glitter and excitement do mot make me 
happy. Paris, as I hear of it from Turlough, dis- 
gusts me. Better the grand hills and the forbid- 
den prayers than such goings on as I hear of.” 

“You ought to be a nun ! ” said Aideen im- 
patiently. 

“ Ah, no,” said Brona. “lam not good enough. 
If I am restless and depressed here, I should be 
worse either in a convent or at Versailles. Were 
I as resigned as father I might be content in a cell, 
or if I were as easily uplifted by pleasure as you, 
I might take my fling abroad and come back here 
the better for it. But as I am just myself ” 

She gave her pony to a servant, and followed up 
the stair to Aideen’s room, where the rich fabrics 
and other prettinesses were displayed to her by 
her aunt. 

“ See what charming clothes you might have, 
child, if you were not so obstinate ! ” 

Brona laughed at her aunt’s childish delight in 
the pretty things that she no longer coveted for 
herself, and by that laugh the girl was transformed. 
The grave face became irradiated, and the ripple 
of clear, musical notes that fell from her would 


22 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


have taken a stranger by surprise, contrasting with 
the quiet seriousness of her usual speech. 

What a pity we can’t exchange ages,” she said ; 
** you to be young. I to be ” 

” Not old ! Don’t say it, my dear. I am not 
old, nor do I intend to be. But come and let us 
take these presents to our friends below stairs.” 

The marquise seized a bag of parcels. '' Here’s 
something for everybody,” she said. My friend 
in Paris has attended to all my commissions.” 

” This is how you spend all — never leaving 
yourself a penny,” said Brona, peering into the 
bag ; and then they went down the stairs together 
to the housekeeper’s room, where about a dozen 
individuals were gathered from outdoors and 
indoors, summoned by a whisper that had been 
running round the house for half an hour, beginn- 
ing at a back door, making a circuit of garden 
and stables, and coming back again by the front 
entrance. 

Ribbons and kerchiefs and smart aprons for the 
girls and women, vests and caps and ties for the 
men and boys, besides rosary beads and a crucifix 
for everybody. Thanks and blessings in Irish were 
freely poured out in return, and repeated in English 
to make them doubly emphatic. Thady Quin, the 
butler, and Mrs MacCurtin, the housekeeper, had 
first of all leave to choose the best to their taste, 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


23 


the younger people in turn afterwards. Aideen, 
giving orders for the evening and the next morn- 
ing, was appealed to by whispered remarks and 
questions. 

“ God bless Mr MacDonogh, and we hope he has 
brought good news from France ! 

For all reply the Marquise put her finger on her 
lip, which seemed to say that there was no bad 
news, and there was safety in silence. But the 
anxious were not satisfied. Nor ah and Bridget 
murmured together as they made ready the visitor’s 
bedchamber for the night. The best embroidered 
counterpane was put on the bed, the finest linen 
sheets and the woolliest blankets. The best of 
everything in the dwelling was for the guest. An 
antique silver font was taken from a hiding place 
and hung by the bed, a little blessed water was put 
into it, and a bit of the blessed palm of last Easter 
was placed above it. 

'' Sure nothin’ will happen for one night, and if 
it does there’s the hole under the boards.” 

As MacDonogh came up to his room to prepare 
for dinner, he was waylaid in passages and on stairs. 
Mrs MacCurtin in her best cap curtsied to him in a 
dark corner. 

” God bless you, sir, and have you a word of news 
from my Dan that’s own body-man to Lord Clare ? ” 

” Dan ? Dan MacCurtin ? Of course I have the 


24 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


best of news. I know him. A splendid fellow ! 
No news is good news, ma’am, and you may give 
God thanks for it.” 

Mrs MacCurtin burst into tears and vanished. 

Further on Norah and Bridget, their task finished, 
were lying in wait in a passage, when the tall burly 
figure of MacDonogh came tramping towards them. 

“ Beg pardon, your honour, but how is the boys 
you took from us last year ? Sure we don’t know 
if they’re living or dead. And is it cornin’ back 
they are to us at all, at all ? ” 

” Oh, you girls ! ” said MacDonogh. ” Would 
you bring them back to be hanged, drawn, and 
quartered ? ” 

The girls wept into their aprons. 

” There now ! They’re well enough, as right as 
a trivet. I’ll give your love to them all.” 

” Shan O’Hare,” faltered Norah. 

” A great fellow ! Will be a general,” said 
MacDonogh. 

” But you’re not goin’ to take Brian Conor with 
you this turn, sir ? ” said Bridget. ” There’s 
work for him here with the master.” 

” Is it refuse a fine recruit like Brian for 
the Brigade ? ” said MacDonogh. ” Where’s your 
patriotism, my good girl ? If Brian wants to come. 
I’ll take him.” 

The girls lowered their heads with groans and 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


25 


retreated tearfully, while the guest passed into his 
room, followed by Phelim, the boy who had been 
told off to wait on him, and who also was a candidate 
for membership in the Irish Brigade under Lord 
Clare in Paris. 

MacDonogh was in fact a recruiting officer for 
the Brigade, as well as a clever merchant, doing a 
thriving trade in smuggling wines and silks from 
foreign parts and exchanging them for tallow, wool, 
and hides in his native country. His vessels, 
coming and going, brought news as well as goods 
from France and Spain, and conveyed the recruits 
required to keep up the standing regiment which 
held its place in Paris until dissolved by Louis 
XVI. in his days of evil fortune, when at the 
dissolution he presented the Brigade with a banner 
bearing the motto — 

1692-1792 

Semper et Ubique Fideles, 


V 

After dinner the little company sat in the library, 
Morogh, his sister, Brona, the guest MacDonogh, 
and Father Aengus, who had been pressingly 
invited to leave his cell for the moment, no danger 
being imminent. A huge turf fire burned on the 
wide flagged hearth, for though it was spring the 
sea dews were chill and the winds were sharp. 
The group in their various costumes made a picture. 
Aideen was in the French dress of the day, gay and 
elegant, for she held that to make a pleasant 
appearance does something towards creating cheer- 
fulness in sad and serious surroundings and circum- 
stances. Brona’s grey woollen frock, with a blue 
girdle, protested against elaborate fashions, Morogh 
and MacDonogh were in the gentleman’s dress usual 
at the time, and Father Aengus wore his brown 
gown and cord of the Franciscan Order. A tall 
screen of Spanish leather made a rich and sombre 
background for the figures at one side of the hearth, 
and behind in the shadows of the more dimly 
26 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


27 


lighted part of the room, rows of books were to be 
seen covering the wall from the floor even up to the 
very ceiling. 

Morogh, a pale man of placid countenance, with 
thoughtful brows and somewhat worn and weary 
eyes, was unusually bright and lively in enjoyment 
of the rare visit of his friend ; yet in every particular 
of manner and appearance he was in strong contrast 
with MacDonogh, who was a big florid man, loud 
of speech, with a certain reckless-seeming dash 
that covered a good deal of wary prudence not to 
say occasional cunning. 

Here is the letter,” said MacDonogh. ** The 
date is six months old. I found it waiting for me 
in care of a safe hand. I was in Spain when it was 
written. A good long way to come round to get a 
letter from France ! ” 

Morogh took the letter, and read it aloud in a 
low voice, while all the little company listened with 
the keenest interest. 


Paris, October, 1746. 

Dear MacDonogh,— I congratulate you on your 
marriage, but trust it will not induce you to retire 
from the Irish Brigade. I hope you do not forget 
the memorable day we had at Fontenoy, and the 
other glorious days in which they had a share. 
Your promotion goes on and all are wishing for 
your return. With your assistance and O’Brien’s 
the ranks are near filled up. I hope to see you soon. 


28 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


How does my old friend and relation Capt. Dermot 
O’Brien get on ? How is Morogh O’Loghlin ? Are 
they in good health and permitted to live and pray 
in peace ?— Yours, Clare. 

To Mons. a. MacDonogh, 

Co. Clare, Ireland. 

'' He doesn’t forget his friends,” said Morogh, 
folding the letter. ” Pity that he wiU die over 
there, unmarried, and that his line will come to 
an end.” 

'' We hope not. We hope not,” said MacDonogh. 
” A noble French wife will not bring him any fresh 
danger. And since even I have now got a wife in 
France, what may not be expected to happen ? ” 

” My nephew will do the same, I hope,” said 
Aideen briskly. 

” Turlough ? I don’t know. He will need to 
get a bit steadier first,” said MacDonogh with a 
change of voice. 

Morogh sighed and shifted in his chair. 

” He does not make himself happy here,” he said. 
How could it be expected ? ” Aideen hastened 
to say. 

” He is young. He will improve,” said Mac- 
Donogh. ” We must give him time.” The big re- 
cruiting officer regretted the words that had roused 
pain in the mind of his friend and host. 

” Aye ! ” said Turlough’s father, ” aye ! ” 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


29 

“ You were not always a contented stay-at-home, 
yourself,” said Aideen. 

No,” said her brother, '' I took the full benefit 
of my youth in many scenes and societies. You 
are right to remind me of it, Aideen.” 

Brona said little. Her eyes were on her father’s 
face. More than any other she knew how deep 
was his disappointment in Turlough. She shared 
his sorrow, a grief that at nineteen was enough to 
overcloud her days with even a bigger shadow than 
was cast by Penal bondage. 

You have more letters to read, Morogh,” said 
Aideen anxious to divert her brother’s mind from 
Turlough’s affairs, of which she knew more than 
he did. 

'' Very interesting letters,” said O’Loghlin, '' life 
is not so hard when one has friends. Here is one 
from honest Charles Lucas, who never forgets that 
he is a Clare man.” 

'' Or that he began life as an apothecary in Ennis,” 
said MacDonogh. ” What is he doing now ? Is 
he still fighting the Corporation of Dublin who 
disfranchised him ? For a man who is not a Papist 
he has had a rough time of it.” 

” He has got the better of them. He is returned 
to Parliament. Anything that can be done for his 
Papist friends he will do.” 

” That will not be much,” said MacDonogh. 


30 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


** He will ruin himself over again before he will be 
of any use to us. There is nothing for the Papist 
but war, and war at present is not possible.” 

” Impossible nowhere but here,” said Aideen. 
“War everywhere except where it ought to be ! 
England and France plunging at each other. You 
and your Brigade fighting for France, and your own 
country with the assassin at her throat.” 

“ Sh — sh — dear lady ! ” said MacDonogh. “No 
use showing your teeth when you can’t bite. Better 
fight as at Fontenoy than nowhere.” 

Aideen shrugged her shoulders, French fashion, 
and looked at her brother. Fear of injuring him 
was stronger in her even than her desire to indulge 
in the freedom of speech she had been accustomed 
to in Paris. Morogh changed the conversation by 
producing another letter. 

“ This is from Mrs Delany,” he said, “ my old 
friend of so many years ago.” 

“ The Dean of St Werbergh’s wife ? ” said 
MacDonogh. Certainly you have an odd assort- 
ment of friends, O’Loghlin. Now, where did you 
make accquaintance with this comfortable, 
prosperous English dame, who is enjoying, on her 
husband’s ill-gotten spoils from Papists, all the best 
the world can give her, while you and yours suffer 
that she may thrive, and are pinched to ensure 
her plenty of pin money ? ” 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


31 


“ Let me see,” said Morogh, I met her first in 
Paris, in, I think, 1718, the year of the Quadruple 
Alliance. She was then the almost child- wife of 
the brutal old Cornishman, Pendarves. Her uncle, 
Granville, had forced her into the marriage two 
years before — by way of providing for her, — and 
we were all amazed at the dignity and modesty 
of the young creature, and her patient endurance 
of so pitiful a fate. My memory holds her as one 
of those figures never to be forgotten. I first saw 
her then, and not again till I met her as a widow 
in London living with her mother and sister, and 
declining all invitations to make a fresh venture 
into matrimony. Many a one she disappointed, 
for she was a charming creature, but no one ever 
had a right to complain of her treatment. About 
1730 she came to Ireland to stay with the DonneUans 
in St Stephen’s Green, and I met her at Dr Delany’s 
in Stafford Street in company with Swift and 
Stella.” 

'' And became one of her lovers,” said MacDonogh 
laughing. 

A shade crossed Morogh’s face, and Brona darted 
an indignant glance at the guest, and then raised 
her eyes to her mother’s portrait that hung on the 
opposite wall. 

** My wife was with me then,” said Morogh 
quietly. 


32 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


“ Pardon ! ” said MacDonogh. 

After that/’ continued Morogh, I met her 
frequently in London, for, as my sister reminds me, 

I was a good deal about the world, and interested 
in many people, before I settled down to be a pro- 
scribed Papist in my old home in my native country. 

I have always had a warm and pleasant feeling for 
Mrs Delany, and when I heard of her marriage with 
the worthy Dean, three years ago, none of her 
friends were more rejoiced than I was to know that 
she had found happiness with an affectionate 
husband.” 

MacDonogh was evidently not in sympathy with 
his friend on all points, and his face showed it now, 
but before he could speak again Aideen averted 
danger by turning the conversation on the King 
of France. 

'' Has Louis profited anything by his illness at 
Metz and the counsels of the Bishop of Soissons ? ” 

MacDonogh laughed. 

“ When the devil was sick 
The devil a saint would be : 

When the devil was well 
The devil a saint was he,” 

he said. '' The Bishop is still in banishment from 
the Court in consequence of his temerity. Chateau- 
roux is gone, of course, gone the way of all flesh, 
but Pompadour is reigning. Louis will never be 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


33 


anything but a vulgar profligate, and the people 
who were frenzied with anxiety about him in his 
fever, fearing his death, are losing their enthusiasm, 
and are suffering horribly throughout the country. 
God knows what will be the end of it. Wise men 
say there will be a revolution.” 

“ They worshipped his predecessors, why not 
him ? ” said Aideen scornfully. 

Louis XIV. was an outrageous and vainglorious 
spendthrift,” said MacDonogh, ” but his audacity 
and magnificence dazzled the multitude, who saw in 
him a splendid figure, and were proud of him, vices 
and all. But this man is all low vice and vulgarity, 
no splendour, no bravery of style even, and the 
disgusted people are gnashing their teeth at him.” 

'' He may yet repent,” said the Franciscan, who 
had scarcely spoken to ask some questions about 
friends of his Order in the places lately visited by 
MacDonogh, who had brought him letters. 

“ As a coward, at the last,” said MacDonogh 
bitterly. 

” Even that,” said the friar mildly. The Lord 
made no conditions except just repentance.” 

Then he slipped away, and left the group of 
friends to talk round the fire while the wind whistled 
like a war bugle in the chimney and through the 
chinks of the doors, and the ocean rollers beat like 
the roll of drums on the not far distant shore. 

3 


34 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


At four o’clock next morning the house was astir, 
for Mass was to be said in the secret cell, and all the 
household were preparing to receive the Sacraments. 

The best opportunity I ever get,” said Mac- 
Donogh, and I am not going to lose it,” and there 
he was on his knees on the steps outside the cell 
with all the Norahs and Bridgets and Dans of the 
household, waiting to go to Confession with the 
rest. When all that was done, and Brona had 
lighted the candles on the altar in the little dungeon 
chapel, the door was shut and the Mass was said, 
and everyone in turn partook of the Lord’s Feast. 
Morogh and his sister and daughter in line with the 
humble members of the household, all being there 
but Thady Quin, who was on watch to avert the 
tragedy of a surprise, and was busy in the dining- 
room preparing for the family breakfast. As he 
spread the cloth and arranged the table, he talked 
to himself, going frequently to the windows to take 
a sharp observation up and down the country. 

''For they might have a spy set on MacDonogh,” 
he said. " Now, what would I do if they walked 
into me this minute ? Where could I say the family 
all did be ? Out takin’ a ride, may be, or down to 
the shore to bathe ? The whole o’ them ? Mac- 
Donogh and the Master, and Miss Brona and the 
Marquee herself ? And Honor MacCurtin on a 
pillion, or in the sea, rheumatism an’ all ? With 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


35 


them troops o' girls and boys thrapesin’ after them ? 
No, I don’t think the King’s regiments would be 
believin' ye, Thady Quin, so it's only to the heavens 
above that you have to look for deliverance. And 
be at your prayers, my man, while you do be handlin' 
the cups and saucers, for the Lord won't be angry 
if you break a plate or two through the distraction 
of an * Our Father,' and it's angels will be pickin' 
up the pieces ! " 


VI 

After breakfast the next morning MacDonogh 
took horse and rode off to spend the day recruit- 
ing for the Irish Brigade under Lord Clare, who 
at that time maintained a standing regiment of 
sixteen hundred men at Paris, ready for active 
foreign service when required. When he had gone 
O’Loghlin called his daughter into the library, and 
read to her the kind letter of Mrs Delany, to which 
he had only alluded the evening before. 

MacDonogh, though a brave and true fellow, 
is a bit of a bigot,” he said smiling, “ and we need 
not discuss everything in his presence.” 

Dear Mr O’Loghlin [said the letter],— I have 
heard that your daughter has returned from school, 
and it seems to me that the County Clare will be 
rather a sad place for a young girl at present. Will 
you lend her to me for a few weeks, during which I 
may try to give her a little pleasure and amusement ? 
You know me well enough to trust that I will take 
every care of her, and will shield her from all annoy- 
ance on the burning subject of rehgion. Indeed, 
intolerance and tyranny are less crueUy in evidence 
36 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


37 


here than in the country parts. You know D. D.'s 
liberal-mindedness of old, and that I pretend to be 
nothing but a mere Christian. Do, please, persuade 
your girl to come, and believe me always Your 
sincere friend, Mary Delany. 

During the reading of this letter several changes 
had passed over Brona’s countenance. Surprise, 
disapproval, and something like indignation followed 
each other in her expressive eyes. 

“ You don’t wish me to go, father ? ” she said. 

“I do wish it, Brona,” said Morogh. Why 
not ? ” he added as the girl sat silent, with opposi- 
tion gatherings strength on her dark brows. 

Oh, why ? ” she exclaimed. “ Why should I 
go out among these people who hate us, call us 
idolaters — ^rob and murder us ? ” 

Hush ! my dear, you are surely not speaking 
of the kind woman whose letter I have read to 
you ? ” 

“ I do not believe in any of them,” said Brona 
passionately, folding her hands tightly together on 
her knees. 

'' You dread the Greeks, even when bearing gifts,” 
said her father with a little playful smile. ** Well, 
Mary Delany is not a Greek. She means friendship 
when she offers if.” 

'' I could not live with them ! ” cried the girl 
piteously. '' I could not help showing my distrust 


38 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


of them, could not make myself agreeable to their 
patronage. Let me stay with you, father ! I am 
as happy here with you as it is possible for me to be 
in this world." 

I am disappointed," said Morogh, sinking back 
in his chair. " I thought I saw a little ray of 
brightness — but if you deny it to me " 

A wild look of pain swept the girhs face. 

Disappoint ! Deny ! Oh, would one ever get 
to the bottom of this well of misery ? It was too 
much for her. She dropped her head and hid her 
face in her hands. 

OXoghlin looked at the bowed head and his 
heart ached. 

" Brona," he said, " don't make yourself too 
unhappy about the matter. Think it over, dear, 
and bring your own naturally sound judgment to 
bear on it, then let me know your decision. Just 
at this moment impulsive feeling has got the better 
of your common sense." 

Brona burst into tears, stooped beside her father’s 
chair, and kissed the hand that rested on the arm 
of it, then silently hastened out of the room. 

Aideen, who met her rushing up to her own 
retreat in the " peel tower," came to Morogh to 
know what had happened to agitate the girl, who 
was usually so controlled and self-contained. 

" Oh, she must go ! " cried Aideen on hearing 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


39 


all about it. “ She will end by doing it to please 
you. Though you may appeal to her common 
sense, her decision will be of the heart rather then 
the head. She will gratify her father,** 

Morogh was hardly consoled by the suggestion 
that he was to win by giving his child pain, instead 
of the pleasure he thought to provide for her. He 
sighed and retired behind his book, leaving Aideen 
to her pleasant anticipations of a coming change 
for her niece, who she believed would be happier 
in Dublin than in Paris, and who must surely benefit 
by a little experience of life beyond that of her 
convent school or of her home in the Burren. The 
event proved the Marquise right in her reading of 
Brona, for next day the girl came to her father to 
offer the sacrifice of her will with so much well- 
assumed cheerfulness, that Morogh dismissed his 
fear of affectionate coercion and replied to Mrs 
Delany’s invitation with a lightened heart. 

Then, for a week or two Aideen was in her glory, 
preparing a fitting wardrobe for her niece. 

** My love, I never knew you were so beautiful,’* 
said Aideen, embracing her as the girl stood before 
her arrayed for the first time in one of the pretty 
Pompadour costumes of the day. 

** Don’t be silly, Aideen,” said Brona. “ If 

clothes make beauty ” 

They discover it. They illumine it,” said Aideen 


40 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


enthusiastically. “ People in Dublin shall not say 
that the beauty of Clare women is on the decline, 
or that they dress like Hottentots.’' 

The question of how Brona was to travel from 
the County Clare to Dublin, no easy journey in the 
year 1747, was solved by the thoughtfulness of the 
good lady whose invitation Morogh had accepted 
for his daughter. 

'' Miss Ingoldesby, a friend of ours,” she wrote, 
'' is returning after a visit to arrange a household 
for her nephew, who intends settling down on 
his paternal property of Ardcurragh, near you, 
and she will be pleased to take your daughter 
under her wing. For her return journey to you 
I shall take care to provide an equally desirable 
escort.” 

Brona, having yielded, made no further allusion 
to her sacrifice of her will and inclinations, but 
braced herself to endure what was a severe trial 
to her pride and natural shrinking from strangers, 
an attitude not to be wondered at considering the 
circumstances into which she had been born and 
had grown up. To be forced into the society of 
strangers who persecuted her faith, was to her like 
being thrown into the arena to fight with wolves. 
Seeing that her father and Aideen with their cos- 
mopolitan experiences could not understand her, 
she locked up the unconquerable pain and dismay 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


41 


in her heart, saying to herself that she would have 
courage enough to live through the experience, 
that it would pass as all things pass, and that she 
would return when it was over to the refuge of 
her home. 

On the evening before her departure, after Aideen's 
maid had packed the trunks and all was ready for 
the morrow’s journey, she stood at the window of 
her high room and looked out on the weirdly 
beautiful montains in their silver-grey and violet 
veils, and from them glanced round the chamber 
which she loved as a hermit loves his cell. White 
curtains and a small white bed with a large crucifix 
above it, an ancient statue of the Holy Mother in 
worn silver, a long Irish rosary of amber beads 
with silver tubular links and crucifix hanging 
on the wall, a table with books and desk and a couple 
of hard chairs, were all the furniture visible. As 
she looked round this cell of her prayers and dreams, 
which had seemed to her on her return from school 
rather cold and lonely, she could not remember that 
she had ever found it anything but the sweet home 
of her separate and solitary soul. Half the night 
she spent on her knees wrestling with her unwilling- 
ness to leave it, praying that it might be left to her 
by the cruelty of the law, entreating God that her 
father might remain undiscovered by an enemy till 
her happy return. Next morning the private 


42 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


coach that was to convey Miss Ingoldesby to 
Dublin called for Miss O’Loghlin at an early hour, 
and Brona smiled her good-bye to her father as 
brightly as if her anticipated pleasure in the visit 
to his friends had been as great as his own. 


VII 

The journey to Dublin of Miss Jacquetta Ingoldesby 
and Brona was tedious, the coach stopping only 
to change horses or to allow of sleep at two places 
on the way. Miss Ingoldesby had shrunk a little 
from such close companionship with a probably 
rather uncouth young Irish Papist from the back 
of the bogs, and wondered what Mary Delany meant 
by transferring the creature from her native wilds 
to civilised society in Dublin. Her manner, 
accordingly, was at first cold and distant to the 
young person, and Brona was left a good deal to 
her own meditations. As the journey proceeded, 
however, the elder woman’s attitude to her fellow- 
traveller changed, and when they arrived at Delville 
near Dublin, then the home of the Delanys, she 
delivered over her charge with a word of com- 
mendation. 

’’ I think I have brought you a rather remarkable 
young woman, my dear Mary,” she said, ” she has 
given me several surprises by the way. Of course 
43 


44 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


these stately old French nuns give a manner and a 
finish. I did not know she had been at school with 
them.'' 

“ We must be careful with her," said Mrs Delany. 
" Her father gives me to understand that she is an 
obstinate little Papist. I was glad to hear it. I 
do not like half and half people." 

“ Well, I am off to England to-morrow, and I wish 
you safely through with your visitor, for I think 
she has a will of her own," said Miss Ingoldesby just 
before they descended to dinner, and while Brona 
was dressing in that nook of Mrs Delany 's '' peaceful 
bowers " which had been assigned to her. 

At dinner a pleasant company was assembled, 
including Miss Delany, a niece of the Dean’s, and 
Mr Greene, a young man to whom she was engaged 
to be married ; Miss Ingoldesby, a couple of young 
barristers from Dublin, Mrs Barbour, the poetess, 
whose home was close by in the village, and Mr 
Hugh Ingoldesby, the nephew in whose domestic 
interests Miss Jacquetta had paid her visit to the 
County of Clare. So closely did his aunt hold this 
young man engaged in conversation on the subject 
of her efforts for his comfort that the dessert was 
on Mary Delany's beautiful polished mahogany, 
and the pierced silver " coasters " were going round 
the table with the wine, before Ingoldesby had found 
leisure to make observation of the rest of the com- 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


45 


pany. Then, his eyes travelling towards the Dean’s 
dinner companion at the other end of the board, 
he had to lean forward a little to see the lady fully, 
and after a few moments of silence, during which he 
gave his aunt a rather absent-minded answer, he 
said abruptly : 

'' Who is the remarkable-looking girl sitting beside 
the Dean ? ” 

“ A bitter little Papist, low be it spoken ! Turn 
your eyes elsewhere, my boy. She will not appre- 
ciate any interest you may take in her.” 

'' I am sorry for that,” said Ingoldesby, '' for 
it is a face that will create a good deal of interest.” 

Miss Jacquetta reflected with satisfaction on the 
obstinacy insisted upon as characteristic of Miss 
O’Loghlin, and did not tell him that the interesting 
young person was a neighbour of his in the county 
in which he was to establish himself, but pointed 
out to him the charming flower-wreaths formed of 
shells on the ceiling above their heads, the ingenious 
work of their hostess, far more exquisite than the 
carved stucco it imitated. 

After dinner, however, Mr Ingoldesby lost no 
time in requesting an introduction to Miss O’Loghlin. 
Brona was sitting a little aloof from the other young 
people, who were making merry together with their 
own familiar quips and jests and catchwords, and 
sat with a little the air of a spectator of a novel 


46 


O'LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


scene. The pretty French costume which Aideen 
had charged her to wear on the first occasion, was 
curiously in contrast with the face above it, giving 
to seriousness a touch of something like tragedy. 

Mr Ingoldesby was presented and received with 
rather the air of a queen receiving a subject,’' 
as Mrs Delany said afterwards to her husband. 
'' It will do him good. Our friend Hugh has had 
sufficient favour from fair ladies, and played the 
king often enough in different social milieux. It is 
amusing to see our little Papist from the bogs 
exacting tribute from him.” 

Take care, my dear,” said the Dean. '' There 
are burning questions in the air. Don’t let us 
play with fire.” 

Oh, have no anxiety,” said his wife. '' The 
girl is a rock of principle, and no Ingoldesby will 
ever be tempted to draw nearer than is convenient 
to a proscribed maiden.” 

Hugh sat down beside the sphinx-like stranger, 
and felt unusually uncertain of how to proceed 
further. But he was not daunted, and endeavoured 
to draw her out. No, she was not very well 
acquainted with Paris. French society did not 
attract her. Yes, the Burren Mountains were 
strangely beautiful. One must know them to 
believe it. Her answers were short, if intelligent, 
and she made no spontaneous effort at conversation. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


47 


Only once she looked up quickly with a flash of 
feeling that illumined her countenance in a 
startling manner, and she was beginning to say a 
few words to account for it when Mrs Delany 
approached her with : 

'' My dear, you are shockingly tired, I know, and 
would like to get some rest. No trifle is travelling 
to Dublin from the County Clare. Miss Ingoldesby 

has gone to bed. Do you not wish '' 

Thank you ! ” said Brona. ''You are very 
kind. Travelling by coach is more fatiguing than 
walking ” 

" All those miles ? ” 

" No,” said Brona with her first laugh since she 
left home. " I am a good walker, but ” 

Ingoldesby and his hostess were both so surprised 
by her laugh, and the change it made in her face, 
that they neither heard nor said more for half a 
minute, while Ingoldesby gathered up the stranger’s 
fan and other frivolities as she had called them to 
Aideen, and then " good-night ” was all that was 
necessary before Brona made her escape. 

" That laugh broke the ice,” said Mrs Delany to 
Ingoldesby when she was gone. " There is deep 
water under the ice. Don’t let us drown her.” 

She had suddenly realised that the Dean was 
right, and that, whether of fire or water, there might 
happen to be danger in the air. Here Miss Greene 


48 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


and Miss Delany approached Ingoldesby with 
messages, which they asked him to convey to their 
friends in England. 

I am not going to-morrow,” he said, but I 
am sure my aunt will attend to these matters much 
better. Shall I ask her ? ” 

‘'Not going ? ” said Miss Delany. 

“ I find I have still some business in Dublin.” 

“ I am surprised. Miss Ingoldesby expects your 
escort,” said Miss Greene. 

Ingoldesby smiled with a slight bow, and the 
young ladies went off to confer with their hostess 
on the change of affairs. Journeys were serious 
undertakings in those days, and so was the con- 
veyance of letters and parcels. Miss Ingoldesby 
was decidedly dissatisfied at finding that her nephew 
was not to accompany her, but he departed with 
her next morning to see her off from Dublin, and 
for a few days he was seen no more at Delville. 

After the early breakfast Mary Delany took her 
young guest all over the house and grounds. The 
evidence of perfect freedom and security in this 
happy and prosperous house impressed Brona, in 
contrast with the sadness of her own home, with its 
overhanging cloud of danger, and she was silent as 
she passed from one to another joyfully-displayed 
detail and circumstance of prosperity. 

Mrs Delany began to fear that her guest was 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


49 


going to prove unconquerably shy and dull, but 
found her more sympathetic in the garden, which 
was the name given to the whole extent of the 
pleasure ground of Delville. Brona was introduced 
to the brook with its high bank and hanging wood 
of evergreens, the long walks covered with great 
trees and bordered with flowers. 

The robins are as fond of this place as we are,’' 
said Mrs Delany, '' it just holds a few of them as 
well as D. D. and myself.” 

The fresh air and the peep at mountains and the 
sea seemed to restore some of her natural vigour 
to Brona’s spirits, and colour flowed into her cheeks 
and light into her eyes. The natural sweetness and 
happy peacefulness of it all, the air of protected 
liberty and joyful security everywhere around, 
appealed to her latent power of sympathising 
generously in the good of others which she could 
not share, and for the moment she looked on her 
surroundings with the eyes of her kind entertainer. 
The clear tones of her voice were heard ringing with 
admiration as Miss Greene and Miss Delany came 
up a side path to meet them, half afraid of the grave 
stranger of the night before, and relieved to hear 
her cries of pleasure and her laughter. 

After this success Mrs Delany was encouraged 
to proceed energetically with her plans for giving 
pleasure to this '' half-frozen girl ” from the gloomy 

4 


50 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


wilds of the Clare of the proscribed. During the 
following week many visitors passed in and out of 
the gates of Delville, and excursions were made 
into Dublin to see the sights and the people. The 
Parliament house in College Green was visited, St 
Patrick’s Cathedral, and Christ Church where 
Strongbow the invader lies beside Eva his wife, 
daughter of the Irish King ; St Werbergh’s, the 
church where Delany officiated, and Stafford Street 
to look at the Dean’s old house where Mrs Pendarves 
used to meet Swift and Stella and Morogh O’Loghlin, 
as members of the lively Dean’s Thursday dinner 
parties. 

A great surprise was in store for the charming 
Papist (as the Dean called her to his wife) , when she 
was informed that a nun had been invited to dinner 
to meet her. 

'' Privately, you know, my dear. She is Miss 
Crilly, a relative of my husband, and we are on 
excellent terms with her. She will be exceedingly 
pleased to see you.” 

That was a quiet family dinner, and Miss Crilly 
proved to be a plain but pleasant-faced elderly lady, 
dressed in black with collar and coif of white, who 
made herself very agreeable, and was evidently a 
favourite with the family circle. 

To return her visit Mrs Delany and Brona were 
driven the next day to her ” nunnery ” in King 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


51 


Street, a hidden convent of Poor Clares, where they 
spent a lively afternoon, drinking tea, seeing the 
pretty chapel,’’ and entertained by Mrs Delany, who 
played the nuns’ organ (the gift of the Countess of 
Fingall), greatly to the delight of the Community. 

Brona was drawn into many corners by the 
Sisters, whispered to and petted with joy, and 
warmed and comforted by their sympathy. 

'' I knew you would enjoy that visit,” said Mrs 
Delany as they were driven homeward. And after 
this surprising and unexpected experience, Brona 
began to feel really happy at Delville, glad to send 
pleasing reports to her father without hurt to her 
sense of honesty. 

The week ended with a little dance at Delville, 
such as Mary Delany loved to get up in a hasty 
unceremonious way, beginning early and ending 
early, and greatly delighting her simple friends and 
neighbours of Glasnevin village and surroundings. 
At the '' little rout ” in question, the company were 
all matched in couples. There were Miss Delany, 
the Dean’s niece. Miss Greene, sister of her fianc^, 
Mr Parker, the curate, and his sister Miss Parker, 
two Mr Swifts, young men of the village, and 
another young man a nephew of the Dean’s. Mrs 
Barbour, the poetess, in whom Swift was interested, 
who lived in the village of Glasnevin, came '' though 
the gout was on her.” 


52 


O'LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


Such an entertainment was a complete novelty 
to Brona, who had never danced except with her 
schoolfellows on the polished floor of her French 
convent, but after a little hesitation she paired off 
with Mr Parker, the curate, and threw herself into 
the fun of the moment, much to the satisfaction of 
her benevolent hostess. She was in the act of 
flying down the middle in a country dance, when 
Hugh Ingoldesby came into the room, and stood 
near the doorway to watch the performance, his 
eyes arrested on the moment by Brona's laughing 
face and flying figure. 

I think we have cheered up our gloomy little 
Papist rather successfully,” said the Dean coming 
to welcome him. 

'' A miracle ! ” said Ingoldesby. 

'' A bright creature enough, only under a cloud,” 
said the Dean. 

She positively radiates enjoyment,” said In- 
goldesby, still following Brona with his eyes. 

“ So, so ! ” said the Dean laughing. “ But don’t 
get too much interested in her, my dear fellow. No 
good could come of it.” 

Ingoldesby did not hear him. When the dance 
was over he made his way to the spot where Brona 
was waiting for a cup of tea, which her partner had 
gone to fetch her. 

** Will you dance with me ? ” he asked. 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


53 

Oh, yes,’' she said, if you are not afraid of the 
blunders of my school dancing.” 

I am not a dancer myself,” said Hugh, but 
I would like to learn from you.” 

'' It is just a pleasant romp,” said Brona. '' Our 
minuets at school were far more prim and stately.” 

“ That was in Paris ? ” 

Yes.” 

'' All your life has been spent between Paris and 
the county of Clare ? ” 

“ I am only beginning to feel that there are some 
other places in the world.” 

** You find the new experience pleasant ? ” 

'' Too pleasant in contrast with the county of 
Clare, which is my home.” 

My home is also in Clare. Do not depress me.” 

It need not be sad for you. There will be 
nothing to depress you. But the music is beginning. 
I really want to dance.” 

And so do I.” And they danced. A memor- 
able dance for Ingoldesby. 


VIII 

The next day was Sunday, and Mrs Delany, 
stepping from her carriage at the entrance to St 
Werbergh’s Church, was met by Hugh Ingoldesby, 
who handed her out. 

Miss O’Loghlin is not with you ? " he said. 
''You forget that she is not one of us. I tried 
to persuade her to come, or to stay at home. We 
have dropped her at their little secret place on 
Arran Quay.'' 

" Heavens ! " said Ingoldesby under his breath. 
" A girl like that — an idolater ! " 

" No, don't flatter yourself that you have such 
an excuse for persecuting her." 

" What does it all mean, then ? " 

" I have to call for her on my way home. Not 

exactly desirable for the Dean, but " 

" Let me go and fetch her," said Ingoldesby. 

" I will bring her to meet you, and so save " 

"Oh, no ! " said Mrs Delany, but Ingoldesby 
had lifted his hat and was gone. 

54 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


55 


The lady followed her husband into the church, 
and Hugh walked towards Arran Quay, wondering 
how he was to find the secret worshipping place in 
which Miss O’Loghlin had hidden herself. He 
walked up and down, and observed people passing 
in at a small dingy-looking door, in twos and threes 
or one at a time, and all with a frightened or guilty 
look as if dreading to be caught in the act. 

'' This is the place,’’ he said at last, and next 
time the door opened he passed in with the rest. 

He went up to the top of a high, narrow stair that 
creaked under his feet, and entered a dimly-lighted 
room, where people were packed together in a kneel- 
ing crowd, and where on a low mean altar candles 
were burning and vessels of gold were shining. 
Before the altar a thin dark man was robing himself, 
putting a richly-coloured vestment over a white 
gown. And then some young boys gathered to his 
side and the Mass began. 

Ingoldesby had squeezed himself into an obscure 
corner, and stared at the spectacle of the altar, 
which was to him just what he had been taught 
to call it, a '' mummery.” How strange and un- 
accountable was the scene, people daring death 
for such an experience as this ! And where was 
the unhappy girl he had come to seek ? Was she 
too assisting at this worse than pagan travesty of 
religious worship ? 


56 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


At last he saw her, kneeling in the front near the 
altar, just caught a glimpse of her, squeezed in 
between two stout, meanly dressed women, herself 
covered all over in a black silk cloak, her pure 
features in profile almost screened by her black hat. 
Her hands were clasped and raised to her chin, 
her eyes fixed on the altar. 

'' What is the thrall ? ” asked Ingoldesby of 
himself. “ Why does this girl, with family troubles 
on her head, turn from God to pray to — what ? 
It is a mystery.” 

When Mass was over she was one of the last to 
move, and when he saw her rise he went down and 
waited for her at the foot of the stair. Then he 
explained to her that he was to take her to meet 
Mrs Delany at St Werbergh’s, and they walked 
along the quay together. Conversation was difficult. 
Ingoldesby was feeling too much shocked and pained 
to know what to say, and Brona had put on her 
breastplate of steel. She was the first to speak, but 
only about the river and the buildings along its 
sides and the bridges. Before long they met the 
Delany carriage coming to meet them. Brona was 
picked up, and Ingoldesby walked towards his 
club, pondering deeply by the way. 

Hugh Ingoldesby had never given a serious 
thought to religion, except as placing it foremost 
among the disastrous things of existence, the cause 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


57 


of wars and persecutions, the instigator and per- 
petrator of cruelties. His ancestor had been 
planted in Clare by Cromwell, and his people had 
held a place there as staunch Protestants, upholders 
of English Church and State. His father having 
died while he was a boy, he had lived with his 
widowed mother in England, and received an 
English educational training. After the death of 
his mother, his aunt had tried to fill her place, but 
Hugh was by that time past feminine tutelage. 
Leaving his university he had been seized with a 
strong desire to see the world in all its continents, 
and had spent a good many years of his youth in 
gratifying the wish. All that being done he had 
been stationary in England for the last year or 
two, and only quite recently had bethought him of 
taking up a position in Ireland on his hereditary 
property. 

It had not entered into his mind as an objection 
that he would be living in a country where the 
people were suffering persecution, where men and 
women burrowed in holes to escape observation, 
and priests were hunted like wolves. He had a 
general idea that the Irish were a bad stock, and 
that any ills they suffered had been brought on 
them by themselves. A few Protestant and 
English, or of the Anglo-Irish type who had con- 
formed sensibly to the religion and ways of living 


58 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


prescribed for them by their masters, would, he 
deemed, be friends enough for him in the shooting 
or fishing season, and for the rest of his years he 
would live where he might please. He had arrived 
at a time of life when it had become rather interest- 
ing for him to go and see the ground on which so 
many fierce battles had been fought, where struggle 
never came to an end, where superstition yet 
reigned, and where he was assured romance was 
still afoot on the hills and in the glens, while the rest 
of the world had settled down to make the best 
of common-sense. He was even beginning to feel 
a little curious as to whether he belonged at all in 
any of his parts to the Celtic race, or was wholly 
English accidentally born in Ireland, whether the 
words Dalcassian or Milesian had any significance 
for him, or were only decorative quantities in the 
dream-talk of a people whose history was a make-up 
of inventions and delusions. That a creature like 
Brona O’Loghlin could be found among the ignorant 
Papist population of the country deserving to be 
treated no better than rats, was an amazing fact 
never recognised till to-day when he had seen her 
on her knees in that mean crowd, jostled by barge- 
men and fishwomen, and praying like any Hindoo 
fanatic, with her eyes fixed on — something that 
he could not bring himself to designate or even to 
think of. 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


59 


As he sat in his club room that Sunday evening 
staring at the wdl, with his unread English paper 
on his knee, he told himself that it did not matter 
to him if the girl were an Egyptian priestess, and 
prayed to a cat or a bull. 

But another wave of what he called curiosity 
crossing this angry thought washed it out, and he 
got up suddenly, put on his hat, and walked out to 
Delville, where he dropped into the evening family 
circle, to the surprise of everybody, so unusually 
late was the hour. 


IX 

He was rewarded for this friendly visit by an 
invitation from his hostess for the next morning, 
when the Lord-Lieutenant, the Duke of Dorset, 
and the Duchess were coming to honour the lady 
of Delville by breakfasting with her. Such break- 
fasts were MrsDelany’s favourite form of hospitality. 
Dinners had become such luxurious entertainments, 
that the Dean’s wife did not feel inclined to “ show 
away with such magnificence.” 

Breakfast was prepared in the beautiful old 
drawing-room. The entertainment passed off de- 
lightfully, the great people walking through the 
interesting rooms on that floor, and requesting to 
be played to on the harpsichord by their hostess. 
In the afternoon, when they had retired, Ingoldesby 
who had been in attendance on the vice-regal 
party, looked around for Miss O’Loghlin. 

“ Oh, I think that as early as possible she retired 
somewhere with her embroidery,” said Mrs Delany, 
'' but not before his Excellency remarked her face 

6o 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


6i 


as new to him, saying he had not seen her at Court. 
I made a pretty excuse for her without betraying 
the little cloven foot peeping from under her charm- 
ing Pompadour dress, which by the way is so 
quaintly unsuited to her style and at the same time 
so fascinatingly becoming to her.” 

Mrs Delany, while speaking, was called away by 
the Dean, and Ingoldesby proceeded to walk through 
the gardens alone, hardly expecting to find Brona. 
Yet he found her in a little summer-house, which was 
a favourite resort of Mary Delany and her husband. 

Am I intruding ? May I sit beside you ? I 
will go away if you bid me,” he said, but looking 
so pleasant and manly, so ready though reluctant, 
to keep his word and depart if necessary, that it 
would have been difficult for anyone to wish for 
his absence. 

''Oh, no,” said Brona, " this bower is none of 
mine, and it really holds two. Mrs Delany says 
it just holds herself and the Dean and the birds. I 
have been watching her pet robin hopping round. 
He can’t think why I am here instead of his mis- 
tress — and without crumbs ! ” 

" May I wind this silk for you ? ” 

" Thank you. You wind in this direction.” 

" Are there many birds in Clare ? ” asked Hugh, 
having caught the right trick of winding a skein 
of silk. 


62 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


“ Birds in Clare ? Ah, the birds of the cliffs of 
Moher . There you have a different voice of nature. 

As how ? '' 

Wait till you hear them.'' 

** I shall do so. Seabirds ? But they don’t 
sing." 

" They speak, cry, scream, denounce the ills of 
some world that is beyond our ken. It is a war of 
voices. One does not think of mere birds when one 
is listening, and when one goes away one is haunted 
by something that is neither of man nor bird." 

" I must hear them. May I go with you some 
day where they are to be heard ? You know Clare 
is to be my home as well as yours. I shall be glad 
to have friends there before me." 

Brona shook her head very gently, and put a few 
fine stitches in the petal of an embroidered flower. 

'' My place is only a very few miles away from 
your father’s place," Ingoldesby went on. " At 
much greater distances people are neighbours in 
the country." 

Brona was silent for a few moments, and lifted 
her face to look at a thrush that was shouting 
melodiously from the top of a high tree. 

" That is the music of peace and prosperity," she 
said. " Is it not sweet ? Our birds in Clare shriek 
of war and hardship." 

Ingoldesby was thinking at the moment more of 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


63 


the rare outline and colouring of the uplifted face 
than of the words. He noted the rich creamy tint 
of the cheek, in which the carnations went and 
came, the eyes like sea-water, grey, green, or blue, 
the generous curve of the dark yet delicate eyebrows 
that hinted of Brona’s Spanish mother, the cluster- 
ing locks above the low forehead. A rare face, full 
of latent strength, though touched with the softness 
of youth. The lifting of the face had suggested 
the experience of Sunday, and Hugh said with an 
impetuosity that might have answered his own 
question as to his Celtic blood ! 

'' Miss O’Loghlin, why did you go up that crazy 
stair yesterday, and into that crowd so unfit for 
your presence ? 

Brona looked amazed. '' Why did I go ? If 
Mrs Delany ” 

I know she took you there — consented to 
gratify her guest. But why in the name of heaven 
did you want to go ? ” 

'' In the name of heaven,'' said Brona slowly. 
'' That is just it." 

Ingoldesby made an impatient gesture. 

Mr Ingoldesby, you came here to-day because 
you were bidden to meet a great personage. I went 
to meet a greater. If you had not come to welcome 
that Vice-King, he would not have missed you. If 
I had not gone my King would have missed me." 


64 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


She spoke simply and quietly, but she had turned 
white from a deeper feeling than indignation, and 
her eyes were full of tears. 

Ingoldesby heaved a sigh. 

'' If there is a God, is He not everywhere ? '' 

'' He is everywhere.'’ 

** Then why go to a pestilential den ? ” 

Because you have seized His churches — our 
churches,” cried Brona with a sudden blaze in her 
eyes turned full on him. 

I did not take them,” said Ingoldesby. “ I do 
not want any churches. I do not believe in them.” 

Let us say no more, then,” said Brona. '' I am 
in your power. For myself I should not care, but 
you can ruin my father if you will.” 

‘‘ Great heaven ! You know that it would be 
impossible.” 

I do not know. It is an incredibly cruel world 
as I have found it. You are part of that world ” 

But here Mrs Delany interrupted them. She had 
come to look for Brona. 

There was no opportunity for resuming the 
conversation that evening, and as Hugh Ingoldesby 
walked back to Dublin in the clear starlight of a 
June night he told himself that he did not want to 
know anything further of this unaccountable girl, 
who shocked even more than she charmed him. 
What was to be thought of a country that produced 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


65 


such bewitched and bewitching beings, keenly 
intelligent on all points but one ? Devotees of an 
intolerable creed ? Eyes capable of flashing green 
fire, mouth of childlike tenderness, but ready in 
a moment to take a set of determination ? A 
man could not be in sympathy with a woman 
like that. To draw near her would be to submit 
to thrall. 

A week passed of busy days with his lawyer, and 
of mixing in the society of his many friends in 
Dublin. He felt that he had quite shaken off the 
strange impressions which had of late so disturbed 
his calm self-contained habit of mind. Papists 
and Papistry were nothing to them, there were too 
many other charming women. Having recovered 
from his curious attack of mental irritability, he 
felt sufficiently in good humour to turn his steps 
once more to Delville. Mrs Delany was busy 
gathering sweets in her garden, and met him with 
her laced muslin apron filled with lovely blooms. 

You are just in time,’' she said. I shall want 
you for dinner to-morrow. We have friends coming. 
The table was nicely filled, but as Miss O’Loghlin 
went off unexpectedly this morning there is a 
vacant seat.” 

** She is gone ? ” said Ingoldesby. '' I thought 
you said she would stay another month.” 

” So I hoped. But there was a summons Rome, 

5 


66 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


and she would hear of no delay. As a proper 
escort offered at the moment we could not try to 
keep her.’' 

“ I hope no special trouble.” 

I don’t know. Her brother has returned from 
Paris, and her presence was urgently required. I 
suspect that the visits of Mr Turlough O’Loghlin 
to his father’s house are not productive of much 
happiness to his family.” 

'' She has a brother ? ” 

The proscribed heir of a proscribed father — 
without the strength of grace to bear what my old 
friend Morogh endures with dignity. I imagine 
that Brona has influence over her brother, and that 
altogether she is the person who keeps up a sort of 
mental equanimity in the household.” 

What others are there ? ” 

“ Only an aunt, Irish, my friend’s sister, but an 
almost naturalised Frenchwoman, devoted to her 
brother’s children, but silly on the subject of 
Turlough, while she expects superhuman wisdom 
from Brona.” 

What a fate ! ” 

“ For whom ? ” 

“ For Miss O’Loghlin, of course. Brains-carrier 
and peacemaker in a miserable home, and in a 
country no better than a charnel-house — from what 
I hear.” 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 67 

'' She loves her people and her country, and 
none of them are wanting in brains. The con- 
ditions of life all round her are painful indeed. 
I wanted to do something, but the evil goes too 
deep.” 

Ingoldesby was silent, and Mrs Delany, raising 
her eyes to his face, saw something there that 
prompted her to speak further. 

It is better that neither you nor I should 
interfere too much. Whatever I may do, you can 
do nothing.” 

I have no desire to try. The whole situation 
is repulsive. I have changed my mind about going 
to take up residence at Ardcurragh. There would 
be endless vexation and no kind of advantage to 
anybody. I will return to England immediately.” 

I think you will be wise to do so,” said Mrs 
Delany gravely, speaking rather on her own thought 
than on his words. '‘You could, as you say, do 
nothing to alleviate suffering. You might only 
bring further trouble to a young creature already 
overweighted.” 

“ As how ? ” 

“ Now, Hugh ! I have known you since you 
were a little boy, and I may venture to warn you. 
We have seen you unusually interested in Miss 
O’Loghlin.” 

“ Surely I am able to guard myself.” 


68 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


It is not for you that I am uneasy. You 
need not put on your ' all the Courts of Europe ’ 
air with me. What was the song some one sang 
the other night ? 

He gave his bridle-rein a shake. 

Said adieu for evermore ! 

You may not be that hero of romance, but remember 
that my friend’s girl is just out of her convent, 
where her mind has been filled with high ideals. 
You are the first man she has known except her 
father and brother. She may have found you 
attractive.” 

'' You flatter me.” 

'' I don’t mean to do so. Circumstances may 
bestow on you graces not your own. When you 
ride away she will be left with an added difficulty 
in her place in the world, which you describe as a 
charnel-house. You tell me you are going to 
England. I have noticed you a little unstable in 
your resolutions of late. If you are thinking of 
going— go.” 

Ingoldesby was silent, and Mrs Delany glancing 
at him saw that he looked pale and disturbed. He 
left her abruptly, without thanking her for her 
counsel. 

A week later Mrs Delany said to her husband : 
” I wonder what has become of Hugh Ingoldesby.” 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


69 


The Dean came home that evening saying : ** I 
went to look up Hugh at his club. He has left 
Dublin.’^ 

For England ? 

No, for Clare.^^ 


X 

On a brilliant summer morning Hugh Ingoldesby 
wakened in his house at Ardcurragh in Clare, in the 
room in which he was born, and where his father had 
died. Of the second event he had no more memory 
than of the first, and all his recollections of his 
mother were associated with far other places. He 
had arrived so late the night before, that driving 
up the avenue he had seen nothing but the heavy 
darkness of trees in the sky, with the stars glittering 
above them, and a great block of a house with 
lights in the windows, and high chimneys barely dis- 
cernible. Entering the gloomy hall, floored with 
black and white flags, and the large lonesome- 
looking dining-room lined with portraits, his im- 
pressions had been anything but cheerful. 

By morning light things looked less sombre. 
Miss Jacquetta had done her work thoroughly, and 
the fresh paint and well-polished furniture showed 
the neatness and proper care of present prosperity. 
Richly coloured hangings softened the upright lines 
70 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


71 


of the tall windows. Old mirrors reflected the 
waving green of the trees and the high golden clouds 
sailing above them. In the morning-room where 
Hugh at once decided to live chiefly, these features 
were noticeable, but a visit to the portraits in the 
dining-room was far from exhilarating. Here 
frowned the lowering countenance of the man 
established in Ardcurragh by Oliver Cromwell, 
followed by other masters of the house, who turned 
the same unwelcoming gaze on their" absentee 
descendant. His Dutch great-grandmother was 
of a type particularly unattractive to Hugh, but 
his own fair-haired mother, who had evidently 
given her complexion and perhaps some other traits 
to her son, pleased him so much that he resolved 
at once to separate her from her uncongenial com- 
pany, and transfer her to his own apartments. 

He was satisfied to find English servants around 
him. His aunt had been thoughtful for his comfort 
in that as well as in every other respect. After 
breakfast his favourite man, long in his service, 
was at the door with horses, engaging to take the 
master for a ride, while giving him the benefit of 
the six weeks' sojourn in the country which had 
put Jonathan Judkin in possession of a great deal 
of information which he was anxious to impart. 
Leaving the long darksome avenue, with its 
clamorous rooks behind, the riders came out on an 


72 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


open road, with a distance of violet hills and low 
woods on one side, and on the other a vast extent 
of green and brown, of field and bog, with water of 
pool and stream gleaming like the flash of swords 
and shields when parting clouds left them shelterless 
under the bare eye of the noonday sun. 

'' What air ! What light ! What a splendour 
and loveliness of nature ! said Ingoldesby to 
himself. Then turning to Judkin, '' Can you tell 
me where are the people, the inhabitants of this 
beautiful region ? '' 

The people, sir ? '' said Judkin. Do you 
see that row of low hovels between you and the 
wood over yonder ? More like dirt -heaps ? That’s 
what they call a village. And do you see the wisps 
of smoke rising out of the hill nearer to us ? More 
of them live in holes down there.” 

” Human beings ? ” 

Like rats and weasels — what they are ! ” said 
Judkin. Unhappy, unsightly creatures. Sunk 
in superstition. I wonder the law doesn’t put 
gunpowder under them and blow them all up.” 

” The law is hard on them as it is,” said In- 
goldesby. What is their particular criminal 
superstition ? ” 

” Why, there’s the Mass, as they call it, carried 
on in the bogs and woods where nobody can catch 
them, and I hear that it ends up with the cere- 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


73 

mony of drowning a young child in the water-holes 
of the bog/’ 

Softly, Judkin ! The Mass is a fact, I am 
afraid, but the drowning business is an exaggera- 
tion. These people profess to be Christians.” 

” Not they, sir. They worship stocks and stones, 
and know nothing about God. Their priests hide 
in holes, and come up out of the earth and down 
out of ruined walls, nobody knows how or when.” 

” I see you have got all the news, Judkin. You 
and the law have no mercy on them.” 

” And their gentry defy the law like the low- 
est,” persisted Judkin. ” There’s young Turlough 
O’Loghlin come over from France with a splendid 
Arab horse, and goes riding about on him, though 
he’s not allowed to have any such property.” 

” Turlough O’Loghlin ! ” 

“Yes, sir. Son of Morogh O’Loghlin over yonder. 
One of the worst of the lot.” 

“ A worthy gentleman, Judkin, as I have been 
assured by friends of his who are also friends of 
mine.” 

“ Don’t have anything to do with him, sir. The 
Protestant gentry could hunt him if they liked, 
and pity it is they spare him, say 1. He’s one of 
the ' massers,’ and has a priest hiding in his house, 
a French rascal and outlaw, and you or me could 
put a rope around his neck any minute and swing 


74 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


him from a tree. That’s your worthy gentleman 
for you, sir, a lawbreaker and a blasphemer. Then 
there’s a fine French lady, a Marquise or something, 
lives there and keeps house for O’Loghlin, and has 
a thing they call a rosary, of gold beads a yard long, 
and a gold idol hanging to it, and says her prayers 
to it. Lydia, Miss Ingoldesby’s maid, when she 
was here, got a sight of it some way or other. 
There’s a young lady, too, has come home from 
Dublin — they say she’s handsome, and the poor 
devils in the village there adore her as if she was 
one of their saints or idols.” 

'' Perhaps she is good to them, Judkin.” 

'' Oh, maybe so. I believe she’s as bad a heathen 
as any of the lot. But the pick of them all is this 
Turlough with his Arab horse, swaggering about 
the country with his clothes cut French fashion, 
showin’ off his impudent defiance of the King and 
the law of the land.” 

They were approaching a turn of the winding 
road. As Judkin ceased speaking shouts and the 
sound of a scuffle arose, and the riders pressed on 
to see what cause of disturbance might lie beyond 
the huge drapery of ivied trees that formed a 
curtain in front of them. 

'' D me, if it’s not Turlough ! ” said Judkin 

savagely ; and added with a laugh, “ he’s catching 
it ! ” 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


75 


The sunshine was blazing on the bare handsome 
head of a young man on horseback, well set up and 
foppishly dressed and appointed, who was laying 
his whip about the shoulders of a man who had 
seized his horse by the bridle. Another young 
man about the same age as Turlough was leaning 
from his own horse close by, and laughing at the 
fury of O’Loghlin. 

“ It’s Ralph Stodart,” said Judkin. His father 
ousted O’ Kennedy last year, and the young fellow 
is as big a cock o’ the walk as Turlough, and has 
the law on his side for it.” 

I’ll give you five pounds for your horse,” 
shouted Stodart with a roar of laughter, flinging as 
many gold coins on the road. At the same moment 
the man smarting from the whip-lash, struck 
Turlough a blow on the head with a cudgel, that 
felled him from the saddle to the road, where he 
lay unconscious, head and shoulders in the dust. 

“This is shocking conduct,” said Ingoldesby, 
riding up and frowning at Stodart. 

“ Who are you ? ” asked Stodart insolently. 
“ It is the law. I paid the price for the horse and 
it is mine.” 

The man who struck the blow was disentangling 
Turlough’s feet from the stirrups, and letting his 
legs drop on the road, where he now lay stretched 
at full length. 


76 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


'' Is he dead ? If so this is murder/’ said 
Ingoldesby. 

You mind your own business,” shouted Stodart. 
” It’s no murder to kill a d d Papist.” 

” There’s a kick in him yet,” said Stodart ’s man 
who had struck the blow. 

Stodart dismounted and got on Turlough’s 
horse, and his servant took the bridle of his master’s 
horse and mounted his own ; and the two men 
rode off laughing and shouting back to Ingoldesby 
to “ look to the carrion.” 

” We can’t leave him here,” cried Hugh. We 
must put him across my horse and walk back with 
him to Ardcurragh.” 

'' Can’t we take him to his own people ? ” said 
Judkin. '' What do we want with the heathen at 
Ardcurragh ? ” 

” The distance is too great to his father’s house, 
and it would be a terrible shock to his family.” 
Hugh was thinking of Brona. 

“ It would be no loss to the world to let him lie 
where he is,” grumbled Judkin. 

” I’ve heard you talk of your Bible, Judkin,” 
said his master. '' What about the Samaritan ? ” 

''Oh, the Bible’s one thing and this is another,” said 
Judkin. " If we did all they did in those old times it 
would keep us busy. Besides, there were no Papists 
then. Howsoever, your orders must be obeyed, sir/’ 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


77 


Furlough was carried to Ardcurragh as suggested, 
and put to bed in the best spare bedroom, an apart- 
ment that had seen many generations coming and 
going through the heavy mahogany door, and 
sleeping and waking in its funereal four-post bed, 
wrapped round by curtains of dark tapestry with 
obscure sinister befigurements folded in their 
depths. A carriage was sent posthaste for the 
nearest doctor, and Ingoldesby, having seen the 
patient regain consciousness, left him in the care 
of Judkin, and rode off to Castle O’Loghlin to break 
the news of the accident to his family. As he rode 
he had a vivid realisation of the strange, unlikely 
ways of fate, that will seize a man’s horse by the 
bridle and turn him out of his course on the high- 
road into byways he never dreamed of. 

He had been wishing to meet Brona, and wonder- 
ing how he could best make an approach to acquaint- 
ance with her people. He had imagined her, with 
all her lights out, sitting in the darkness of the 
proscribed, here in her home, far from the gay 
scenes of prosperous life in which she had so delight- 
fully shown her natural capacity for happiness. 
He had said to himself that she would be inaccessible 
to him in her present position and circumstances. 
And now, here he was hastening to her as one the 
urgency of whose mission could not be denied. Half 
way down the bowery road that led to Castle 


78 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


OXoghlin he saw her coming slowly towards him, 
and slacked his rein the better to see her before 
she perceived or recognised him. She wore one 
of the wide lemon-coloured sun-hats of the women 
of Tuscany, tilted back from her brows as she walked 
in the shade. She was looking at the far-off hills 
with their blue distance in her eyes, when, suddenly 
seeing him, a gleam of undeniable gladness lit up 
her face. Hugh, riding up to her, could scarcely re- 
member the words he had intended to say to her. 

I thought it was my brother,” said Brona with 
a little bright laugh, and held out her hand. 

Ingoldesby sprang from his horse, and held the 
hand a moment longer than was necessary. Then 
he walked beside her, feeling that this man was not 
Hugh Ingoldesby, but some other unknown to him. 
The truth had struck him a blow in the face. Be 
she heathen, Hindoo, or whatever the world would 
call her, he, the hater of all mummeries and idola- 
tries, loved this Papist woman. 

- Your brother — yes,” he said, and his voice 
sounded to himself as if from far off. '' I have 
seen your brother. Miss OXoghlin. He rode out 
this morning, did he not ? He has not returned.” 

'' What of him ? ” cried Brona, alarmed. 

“ An accident. Don’t be frightened. I left him 
tolerably comfortable in my house at Ardcurragh. 
He provoked an outrage. He has lost his beautiful 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


79 

horse and got a shaking — though nothing worse 
than that, I hope/’ 

Oh, poor father ! ” said Brona. '' He has 
enough without this. Why ? ” 

'' Your brother ought to live in France. This is 
no place for one of his temper.” 

Ah, if he would. But is he in danger ? You 
have been very good to him. Tell me the truth.” 

“ I do not think he is in danger. The doctor will 
let us know. I am sorry for such an occasion of 
making your father’s acquaintance, but I greatly 
wish to be introduced to him.” 

Morogh had gone with Aideen for a walk towards 
the sea, and Brona hastened to follow and bring 
them back, leaving the visitor alone in the library. 

Ingoldesby looked around the room with a sense 
of interest that was part sympathy and part 
curiosity. The interior, though full of brooding 
peace, had a suggestion about it of mental life 
and vigour. The books that lined the walls were 
evidently books in use, not kept in the formal 
unbroken range that declares the owner who is 
proud to possess but scarcely cares to read them. 

'' A man need not be lonely here,” thought Hugh, 
taking down an early edition of Don Quixote, at 
all events not a man of many languages.” 

Then he came before the portrait of Brona’s 
Spanish mother, her identity declared by the 


8o 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


delicate dark brows which enhanced the brilliance 
of the darker woman’s eyes, and gave such a rare 
and lovely setting to those of her Irish daughter, 
with their colouring of the sea and hills. 

Morogh came in, anxious but calm, Aideen 
followed weeping. 

“ Why will he not stay in Paris where he has 
friends ? ” she said. “ We have no friends here.” 

“ Nay, is not this a friend ? ” said Morogh. 
'' My son has given you much trouble, sir. We 
cannot put an old head on young shoulders. Per- 
haps when he has lived as long as his father, he will 
have learned resignation to the will of Providence.” 

Ingoldesby invited Aideen to come to Ardcurragh, 
if it pleased her to take personal care of her nephew. 
And the Marquise gladly accepted the invitation, 
promising to be ready when the carriage should 
come to take her. 


XI 

Turlough had suffered from concussion of the 
brain and a dislocated shoulder. He was now 
convalescent, with Judkin still in attendance, and 
with his aunt ensconced in rooms near to his. 
Ingoldesby had set no limits to his hospitality, 
despite his prejudice, which in this case was more 
for the young man’s character than for the religion 
he professed. He paid Turlough occasional visits, 
but felt his guest’s effusiveness more like flattery 
of a powerful friend than like manly gratitude. 
Judkin had ideas of his own, which he shared freely 
with his master. 

“ That youngster’s no chip of the old block,” he 
said. '' Not a drop of Papist blood in him. He 
cares for neither Pope nor King — is furious because 
his old family is put down in the dirt, — doesn’t know 
why he isn’t as good as you or Stodart, or any of 
the Protestant gentry. 

“ * Well, sir,’ said I, * why do you worship idols, 
and support witches and priests that have to hide 
their bad deeds in holes and corners ? ’ 


8i 


6 


82 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


‘ I don’t/ he shouted. 

I was afraid for his head, and didn’t contradict 
him. And after a while he began envying you and 
admiring everything round him, and complaining 
of his own ill-fortune. So I didn’t know what to 
say to him after that, and I sent for the Marquise 
to come to him, and I left them there.” 

But the patient soon tired of the foster-mother 
who had petted and spoiled him as a boy, and who 
still wanted to look on him as her baby. 

'' Can’t I have my sister to see me ? ” he asked 
querulously. “ She’s pleasanter to look at than 
my aunt.” 

''You ingrate ! ” said Hugh, but he could not 
feel as angry as he wished to feel because of the 
opening given him to invite Brona to Ardcurragh. 
Brona was appealed to, and was directed by her 
father to gratify her brother, and when the Ard- 
curragh carriage was sent for her she got into it 
willingly. 

Many hours of the following summer days she 
spent with Furlough in the pleasant rooms assigned 
to him in his convalescence, or walking with 
Ingoldesby in the big wandering gardens that 
straggled away into the woods. During these 
walks Ingoldesby took pains to keep all subjects 
of painful interest aloof, to allow nothing but 
matters of mutual interest to suggest themselves 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


83 


for discussion. Thus a number of golden days 
went past. Ingoldesby had ceased to remember 
that there was such a thing as religion in the world, 
and Brona forgot that there was cruelty, only felt 
that a holiday of sweets had been granted to her, 
and that she might enjoy it as she had learned 
to enjoy happiness while at Delville. 

When Turlough was well enough for a long drive, 
pleasant excursions were made. Hugh claimed a 
visit to the cliffs of Moher as a boon promised him. 
Brona reminded him that it had been promised to 
him only by himself, but the drive was taken on a 
day glorious enough for any pageant or holiday. 
Nature seemed laughing at poverty and desolation, 
sunshine making such a glamour in heaven and on 
earth, the air so quickening and refreshing that 
humanity would seem, for the moment, to have 
nothing to complain of and everything to exult in. 

When the road approached the ascent to the 
cliffs Aideen remained with Turlough in the carriage, 
and Ingoldesby and Brona climbed the green slopes 
that led to the heights. At the top they followed 
the beaten path skirting the cliffs, and stood to see 
the wide Atlantic Ocean filling all the view and 
sweeping the horizon, studded with its Irish islands, 
its line broken at one side by mysterious distances 
of mountain ranges, ghostly and uncertain as if 
belonging to the spiritual world which is never 


84 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


seen by us and yet never quite unseen. Nearer 
to them were the freakish masses of separated cliff, 
torn from the coast by some primeval earthquake, 
weird shapes with names as uncanny, defying the 
green rollers that beat them from inward and 
outward, and lash them with spume as from a 
cauldron. 

That is the Hag’s Head,” said Brona. Legend 
tells that she was hurled with the rock to where 
she stands, and bid to remain there like other 
petrifactions of humanity.” 

Was that a punishment for crime in pre- 
historic ages ? ” 

Something like that. There is a suggestion of 
savage wickedness about the shape, isn’t there ? ” 

Are we expected to believe these legends ? ” 

I think not. Poetry is one thing. Faith is 
another. But who condemns the old, old, fairy 
tales ? Is not good to be gathered from them by 
analogy ? ” 

” True,” said Ingoldesby. He could not bring 
himself to say, — not then — that faith like hers and 
fairy tales were one and the same thing to men like 
himself, who were in possession of their reason and 
common-sense. 

As they moved on the air became burdened with 
a confusion of strange sounds, like echoes of some 
distant angry tumult. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


85 


The birds ! ” said Brona. 

Already wide wings rose and fell above the summit 
of the highest cliff, and turning a corner they beheld 
a spectacle that might startle the most experienced 
in this world’s wonders. 

A long line of cliffs, seven hundred feet high, stood 
forth majestically in the green flood, and marched 
away to the distance where the water-world rises 
to meet the cloud-world and the cloud-world stoops 
to meet the water-world. The cliffs folded and 
unfolded their gigantic masses in black landward 
curves, their walls upright as the walls of a fortress 
built with hands, their faces carved in terraces 
whitened by the birds, so that one seemed to look 
on some weird white city created in this fastness of 
nature by an unheard-of civilisation as intelligent 
as any evolved by the races of men. 

The titanic walls, with their solid darkness and 
chalk white terraces aloft above the green ocean, 
were the least amazing part of the scene. Birds 
filled the air, making it thick and white as steam 
with their winged bodies. Huge and white- 
winged when near, in the distance below they 
looked like the butterflies that wheel round a 
lavender bush in June. Diving into the waves, 
soaring against the clouds, hurling themselves on 
the black cliff- walls, perching on the whitened ridges, 
they never ceased their piercing cries, whether of 


86 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


joy or of pain, of strife or of fear. Who, listening, 
could attempt to disentangle the myriads of voices 
or to imagine their meaning ? Ingoldesby stood 
silent. 

How do you feel it ? ” asked Brona. 

A magnificent bit of creation. And you ? 

I know it so well ! ” said Brona. '' Fear, 
effort, warfare, triumph, cruelty are all to me in 
these cries. Do you hear that dominant note, 
about twice in every minute, that comes cleaving 
downward and scattering the other voices ? ” 

“ I hear it,” said Ingoldesby. '' Who is he, this 
bird despot ? What message, what threat, what 
sentence does he deliver ? ” 

'' They say he is an alien who has gained mastery 
over the multitude, and that scientists do not know 
him, have not named him. So the people say. 
I am not learned enough to try to verify this. But 
he sounds like a tyrant, does he not ? ” 

'' His harsh orders, condemnations, denuncia- 
tions — whatever his cries may mean, are not well 
taken. There is a clamour of weak remonstrance 
or angry rebellion raised after each of his fierce 
utterances,” said Hugh listening. 

'' We may speculate for ever,” said Brona. It 
is one of the mysteries of nature.” 

'' Oh, your mysteries ! ” cried Hugh with sudden 
pain in his voice. Nature is always accessible. 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 87 

You lose your life groping in mysteries, loving 
them, satisfied with them.” 

God wraps Himself in mystery as the sun is 
veiled by cloud, but His face shines through like 
the sun, and gives us all the light and warmth He 
intends us to need.” 

Hugh gazed at her as she turned her eyes away 
from him to the white mist of wings and ocean 
foam between her and the far horizon of light, and 
something in him gave way, caution, prudence, 
patience — or what ? 

'' Brona,” he said with passion, ” come out of the 
mysteries and live with me in the sunshine. Give 
up dreams and be a real woman. I love you. Be 
my wife and you shall never regret trusting yourself 
to a strong human man, rather than to visionary 
priests and their idols and bugbears.” 

“ Hush ! ” said Brona softly, but with white 
lips. '' You do not know what you are saying.” 

'' Do I not ? Am I not a sane man ? Do I not 
know that you have learned to love me ? Have you 
not allowed me to see it ? Or am I contemptibly 
vain to imagine it ? You are too honest to deny 
it, if it is true.” 

Brona’s lips moved, but no sound came. She 
only shook her head. 

Hugh trembled with passion. Brona was still 
silent while that imperious note of the dominant 


88 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


bird rang down the air in her ear like the voice of 
conscience, louder and more masterful than all the 
clamour of weaker voices of heart and imagination 
that shrieked within her against the penalising of 
happiness. 

Speak, Brona ! Tell me that you will at least 
try to love me, that you will come out of the 
shadows and live with me in sunshine.’' 

'' It is impossible,” said Brona. You know, 
if you reflect a moment, that it would be your ruin 
in this world and mine in eternity. If I did not 
conform to the law within a year you would become 
one of the proscribed.” 

''You would conform. I would not quarrel with 
your secret dreams.” 

" Peril my soul ? Deal treacherously with my 
Creator ? ” 

Hugh made an impatient gesture. 

" Do you look on me as a condemned wretch — 
lost for all eternity ? ” 

" No. For you are in ignorance of the truth, 
and we are all to be judged according to our lights. 
What would be heinous sin in me is no sin in you. 
Let us talk of this no more. Oh, why have you 
spoken, and spoiled our friendship ? I was so 
happy in having a friend. Why — why ? ” 

Brona stood off a little and bent her face on her 
hands. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


89 


** Because love is so much more than friendship.” 

” I am sorry, for friendship was so great and so 
sweet to me.” 

She turned away and began to walk down the 
slope towards the highroad. 

Hugh followed her, deploring his rashness and 
vehemence. 

” I am sorry for being so hasty. Listen to me. 
Our friendship can remain. For your father’s 
sake, tolerate me. I may be of service to him. 
Don’t be afraid of me. Give me your hand as a 
friend.” 

Brona put a little cold hand into his large warm 
grasp. And then they saw Aideen below on the 
road, signalling to them to return to the carriage. 

On the next day Furlough returned to his father’s 
house. It was true that the home of the O’Loghlins 
was none the happier for his presence. He fretted 
at the dullness of life, envied Ingoldesby, sat in his 
room staring at the ocean, on which he longed to 
see a ship that would take him back to France. 
He would not walk on the public roads, lest he 
should meet Stodart riding his Arab horse, and he 
disdained to mount any of the ” garrons ” kept by 
his father merely as a sorry means of locomotion 
when necessary. Grumbling incessantly at the 
hard fate that had driven him back from Paris, 
and created difficulties about his return to that 


90 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


refuge of his discontent, he made Aideen miserable 
by his appeals to her for the removal of impossi- 
bilities. The usually cheerful spirit of the Marquise 
was crushed. She tried to bear the brunt of the 
young man’s ill-humour, and to save his father and 
Brona something of his sullen hints and querulous 
complaints. When overcome to tears she would 
repair for counsel to the retreat of Father Aengus. 

'' I cannot send him to Paris at present,” she 
said. '' I paid his debts but a short time ago. I 
must save up more money before I can do it again, 
and he has not patience to wait. His father cannot 
and will not increase his allowance, and even if he 
did there can be no return to Paris till the debts 
are paid.” 

'' We can only pray for him,” said the priest. 

** Have we not prayed ? ” 

'' Evidently not enough. God requires more. 
Could you persuade him to come and talk to me ? ” 

“ Alas, no ! ” said Aideen. '' The counsels of 
religion irritate him. If God does not give him on 
the moment what he wants, he will have nothing 
to do with God.” 

The Franciscan’s face fell into lines of a more 
fixed sadness. 

''Yet, for our prayers God may give him what 
he will not ask for himself — a changed heart,” 
he said. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


91 


Morogh, among his books, relieved the trouble 
of his mind more and more by reading, and Fur- 
lough kept as much as possible aloof from his 
father, the only person whose presence seemed to 
put a check on his complaints. Despite Aideen’s 
efforts, Brona was not spared. If she offered to 
walk with him or took her needlework to his room, 
he seized the occasion to reproach her for failing 
to make use of her opportunities of improving the 
family fortunes. 

What was the use of your visit to Dublin ? ” 
he said. '' Why did Aideen spend money on you ? 
Why do you not encourage Ingoldesby ? Anyone 
can see '' 

Brona gathered up her needlework and left the 
room. But at the next opening for conversation, 
her brother took up his reproach where he had 
broken it off. 

“ If you want to live like a nun, why do you not 
go back to your convent ? ” 

Both of these thrusts made deeper wounds than 
he could have imagined or understood. Ingoldesby's 
appealing words were always in her ears, while 
before her eyes were the letters of the saintly 
Mother Superior, whose faithful love had followed 
her from the Convent of the Annonciades in Paris, 
suggesting that at some future day she might find 
it her vocation to take up the sweet yoke and light 


92 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


burden of the religious life, escaping from the perils 
and temptations of an afflicting world. 

She had already suffered the indelicate attacks 
of her brother for the unprofitableness of her 
short season in Paris, where she refused to con- 
sider the matrimonial overtures of more than one 
noble and wealthy Frenchman. One, particularly 
favoured by Furlough, had followed her to Clare, 
and departed in such ill-humour as Furlough feared 
might -somehow prove injurious to himself. But 
these matters had not weighed on her, seeing that 
her father was the happier for her fidelity to him 
and his fortunes. Fhe pain she now carried with 
her to her tower was more poignant than could be 
caused by any of the stings of her brother’s ill- 
temper and unkindness. 

What had become of the peace of that high 
chamber towards which the Burren Mountains 
gazed perpetually with their mysterious smile ? 
Her little lamp still burned, its red flame typical of 
God’s love. Her chosen saints still looked on her 
from the wall, welcoming her to tranquil hours 
when she escaped from melancholy or terrifying 
experiences. Fhere was the spiritual mother’s last 
letter from the convent open on her desk, beside 
her own half-written response, which she found so 
difficult to finish without confessing the personal 
anguish that had fallen so unexpectedly on her 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


93 


heart. It was ''not through want of confidence that 
she had withheld the confession, but with dread of 
making real what she resolved to treat as unreality. 
Now it was too terribly real. She looked round at 
her household gods which had imaged her ideals, 
met the calm eyes of her saints, with their lofty gaze 
speaking to her as the statues spoke to Mignon : 

Was hat Man dir du armes Kind gethan ? 

There was no one able to help her but God. 

She went on her knees before the ancient crucifix 
with its tragic figure. 

There is still God,” said Brona. 


XII 

The bog that lay over beyond the O’Loghlin woods 
was a wilderness stretching far towards the moun- 
tains in deeply coloured lines of dun brown, blurred 
and blotted with green and purple. Flecked with 
gleaming pools of water, studded with grey masses 
of limestone in fantastic shapes, here and there a 
witch-like bush of thorn, it is lovely to the eye as a 
vision of dreamland. There is a never-failing ani- 
mation in its stillness and solitude, caused by ever- 
moving cloud-shadows, sun-flashes, and floating 
mists. Beckoning spirits seem to invite the unwary 
traveller, but to explore it is perilous beyond all 
imagining. Only those who know the safe track 
that skips from stone to stone and from one solid 
green boss to another, can venture to travel to- 
wards its distances. About the centre of the bog 
and in the direction of the rising sun was the secret 
altar, a grey pile chosen for its flat top and rude 
reredos which looked as if prepared by nature in 
some of her earliest upheavals for the purpose to 
94 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


95 


which a persecuted people had devoted it. Close 
by in a cave, with opening hidden by a dense thorn 
bush, the sacred vessels and vestments were con- 
cealed, and not far off was a higher rock, on which 
a scout watched while Mass was proceeding and 
until the congregation had dispersed, creeping 
through cuttings and behind boulders, taking many 
a circuitous route to reach their homes. 

Confessions were made behind the screen of a 
rock. Candles were lighted by means of a flint 
and steel while Father Aengus vested himself. 
These preparations were made by starlight, and Mass 
was said in the first gleam of dawn. Morogh, 
Aideen and Brona and some of their servants were 
among the communicants. The first rays of sunrise 
struck their uplifted faces, and when all was finished 
the resplendent risen sun gave a solemn benediction 
from the top of the highest mountain. The people 
dispersed as they had come. Father Aengus had 
departed at the risk of his life to give comfort to the 
dying. Brona lingered to succour an old woman, 
who devoured the food she had brought her while 
relating the too usual tale of her needs and sor- 
rows. Coming homeward Brona was overtaken 
by Ingoldesby. 

“ You look tired,” he said. Where have you 
been and what have you been doing to your- 
self ? ” 


96 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


“ It is better that I should not tell you,” she said 
sniiling. 

You distrust me.” 

No.” 

At all events I am coming to warn your father 
that a search party is likely to visit his house this 
evening. Fortunately I met Father Aengus an 
hour ago, and advised him to stay away from the 
castle for a few days. He was not disturbed — told 
me cheerfully that he had many hiding-places. It 
is well ; as I beheve Colonel Slaughterhouse will 
be about the country for some time to come.” 

We are accustomed to such attentions,” said 
Brona. ** though not, I think, from that particular 
gentleman.” 

'' He is an old acquaintance of mine, and thorough 
in doing his duty as he understands it. With your 
permission, and on your father’s invitation, if he 
will give it, I mean to sup at your table this evening. 
The Colonel will have called at my place, and in my 
absence come on here at once. His finding me in 
your family circle will be an advantage to you.” 

'' Will it not injure you ? ” 

''No. My name, for good or for evil, will bar that.” 

Here Turlough joined them. Having espied 
Ingoldesby from a high window, he descended to 
seize one more opportunity for improving his ac- 
quaintance with the man he admired and envied. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


97 


Brona hastened to prepare her father and aunt 
for the threatened visit. The news spread through 
the house. The servants went to work to efface all 
signs of the Faith, hiding every emblem of religion. 
Brona gathered together the company of her saints 
and locked them up in a cupboard concealed in the 
wood-sheathed wall, last of all kissing her crucifix 
and hiding it in a niche behind the panelling. 

In the middle of supper the search party arrived, 
a small number of men on horseback headed by 
Colonel Slaughterhouse. Thady Quin, well in- 
structed, invited the Colonel to enter, as if he had 
been an invited guest, pleasantly expected, and the 
dreaded visitor found himself in the dining-room, 
shaking hands with his friend, Hugh Ingoldesby, 
who introduced him to Mr O’Loghlin and his family. 
The Colonel had ridden a long way, and had been 
disappointed of the hospitality he had looked for- 
ward to as sure to be awaiting him at Ardcurragh, 
and the sight of a bountifully spread board and 
comfortable welcoming faces, including Ingoldesby 's, 
disarmed his soldierly wrath, and cooled his enthu- 
siasm for a triumph of discovery. He felt a little 
awkwardness at announcing the cause of his visit. 

'' Pleasure first and business afterwards,” said 
Hugh smiling. '' I can recommend Mr O’Loghlin’s 

game, and as for his wine ” 

The hungry Colonel did justice to all the good 

7 


98 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


things before him. Aideen had provided unusual 
dainties, and there was no doubt about the wine, 
which was of the best, direct from France and Spain. 

Besides being a lover of good wine the Colonel 
was an admirer of wrought silver, and Hugh skil- 
fully drew his attention to some beautiful specimens 
of foreign workmanship in use on the table, as well 
as to the Waterford cut glass that so generously 
contained the wine. Added to these attractions 
was the spirituelle charm of Brona’s beauty, which 
was only enhanced by the pallor of the moment, 
and which was not unnoticed by the stern soldier, 
who seemed to forget that he had come among these 
hospitable friends as an enemy, until reminded that 
he had business to do and had better do it before 
the shades of night set in. 

‘'It is a mere matter of form,” he muttered 
apologetically. “ Mr O’Loghlin will excuse me.” 

The house was explored in a perfunctory manner, 
the men who had been liberally entertained by the 
housekeeper feeling as little anxious as was their 
Colonel to give annoyance. 

“You have pledged me your word that there is 
no Popish priest in this house at this moment,” said 
Slaughterhouse to Ingoldesby. 

“ I have given you my word,” said Ingoldesby, 
“ and when you are satisfied I will ride back with 
you to Ardcurragh, where I hope you will be my 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


99 

guest for as long as you can manage to stay. I can 
promise you some good sport.” 

So the search party departed under Ingoldesby’s 
escort, and Castle O’Loghlin again breathed 
freely. 

Only in the housekeeper’s room was the good 
faith of Ingoldesby questioned. 

He’s as sound as a bell,” said Mrs MacCurtin. 

Don’t talk to me about bad stock, Thady Quin. 
A man is what he is. I tell you Ingoldesby’s a rale 
good friend of this family.” 

** God send he is ! ” said Thady, '' but I know 
their tricks. See how quick he wormed himself 
into favour with the master, and even the Marquee 
that has always her wits about her. And to see 
his eyes when he looks at Miss Brona ! As for 
Turlough that’s a trouble to us all, you don’t 
know what he’U end by makin’ of him. Then this 
Slaughterhouse cornin’ as his friend ” 

“ An’ goin’ away peaceable for that reason,” 
said Mrs MacCurtin. '' Suppose he had dropped 
down on us unbeknownst ! Father Aengus in the 
middle of us ! And the crucifix where it ought to 
be ! Much good your wise talk would ha’ been to 
us then, Thady Quin ! ” 

I’m not new to it,” said Thady. If Father 
Aengus had been here he would have circumvented 
them easy. Many’s a time I told you how my father 


100 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


before me, when things were worse than they are 
now, lived in a sufferin’ family.” 

'' Oh, indeed you did,” said Mrs MacCurtin tartly. 

” And when the enemy came down sudden, what 
did the priest do ? ‘ Where’s your livery. Mack ? ’ 

says he, and in half a wink of an eye his reverence 
was dressed in it. The mistress snipped off a bit 
of her own hair, and plastered it down with soap — 
the handiest thing — on the holy Father’s tonsure, 
an’ wasn’t it the priest himself they were huntin’ 
that opened the door to the villains, and then 
attended table when they were eatin’ all before 
them ! ” 

'' Had they no hiding-place ? ” asked Norah, who 
had never heard the story before. 

'' The ruffians had got wind of it, and searched it. 
But they found nothin’, for in them days a priest 
had no belongings, wore an old sack, and slept in 
holes in trees, or in under an old ruin.” 

” Isn’t it mostly the same now ? ” said Mrs 
MacCurtin. 


XIII 

As they were at breakfast at Ardcurragh, Colonel 
Slaughterhouse gave Ingoldesby his impressions 
of the people at Castle O’Loghlin. 

'' O’Loghlin himself seems a good sort of fellow, 
a bit of a philosopher, a little too fond of books for 
a soldier like me. The Marquise is a Frenchwoman 
to her finger-tips — has been a handsome woman. 
Is a little too anxious to conciliate. Turlough I do 
not like. A mean fellow. Would lick my boots if 
I let him. The girl ” 

Ingoldesby drew a hard breath. He did not 
like to hear Brona alluded to as '' the girl ” by 
Slaughterhouse. 

A rare kind of beauty — lost in this wilderness,” 
continued the Colonel, hardly opened her lips. 
Looked on me as a wild beast come to gobble them 
up, I suppose.” 

'' Must have been agreeably disappointed,” said 
Ingoldesby. Have some game pie. Colonel ? ” 
Thanks. I have breakfasted. She is too 


lOI 


102 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


good for this hunted life. Why not take her to 
Paris ? " 

'' I understand that she prefers the County Clare/’ 
said Ingoldesby. Have a smoke, Slaughterhouse, 
and then we will go for some sport.” 

'' Now, what have they done with the priest 
fellow ? I am not going to spare him. Not if I 
find him outside of their house. A sneaking friar, 
I am informed, a foreigner, one of the worst.” 

Try to remember you are on holiday,” said 
Ingoldesby. 

'' Oh — h ! I wish I could. I hate the service. 
But why are the Papists such obstinate pigs ? 
Can’t they make the best of life as the law allows 
it to them ? ” 

A problem to you and me,” said Ingoldesby. 

“ Your duty does not oblige you to discover and 
punish offenders.” 

No.” 

'' So it does not trouble you to see people running 
their necks into the noose. By the way, I nearly 
got up at three o’clock this morning when I heard 
their bell ringing from somewhere — Mass bell I 
take it.” 

'' That was a little trick of your imagination,” 
said Ingoldesby. They have no bells. Centuries 
have passed since they dared to ring a bell. They 
keep their trysts without summons of that kind.” 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


103 


** But I heard it,” said Slaughterhouse. '' I am 
utterly devoid of imagination — a much misleading 
quantity.” 

Then it was some peculiar accidental chime — 
the clash of the wind with the sea,” said Ingoldesby. 

Come along, if you are ready. My people are 
waiting for us.” 

The day passed pleasantly, and next morning 
Colonel Slaughterhouse and his men went their way. 
Ingoldesby rode with them many miles, and saw 
them out of the country. 

It hasn’t been very satisfactory, but I shall 
come again,” said Slaughterhouse at parting. '' I 
mean to keep wideawake, with my eyes on the 
County Clare.” 

As Ingoldesby rode home, he pondered the fact 
that he did not know Slaughterhouse intimately 
enough to decide whether his admiration for Brona 
would prove chivalrous and helpful, or would be an 
added difficulty and danger to her family. Were 
he to press a suit on her she would take an attitude 
that would quickly betray herself and her father. 
How would rejection act upon the Colonel ? Would 
mortification embitter him, and provoke him to a 
revenge easily accomplished ? Would he continue 
content with hunting the priest out of doors, and 
leave the O’Loghlins at peace in their home ? 

There was no sleep for Hugh that night. Life 


104 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


seemed to have become horribly complicated. 
Thinking showed him no way out of difficulties. 
Jealousy was unreasonable. Brona was as far 
removed from him as if she had been a nun in her 
convent. But if Slaughterhouse were to become 
an enemy, how could he protect her ? While he 
lay trying to pick hard knots of future trouble, a 
storm arose and blew against his windows from the 
direction of the wood. Was it an echo in his brain 
of the Colonel’s fancy about a bell ringing in the 
night, or did he really hear such sounds, clear and 
sonorous, coming at intervals on the wind ? 

'' The gale clashing with the voices of the distant 
sea,” he said to himself as he had said to the Colonel, 
and listened for another weird note, the unmistak- 
able note of a bell. Sometimes faint and musical, 
sometimes loud and deep, as the soughing of the 
trees seemed to carry it this way and that way. 
Unrested and disturbed in mind he fell asleep at 
last, and was awakened by Judkin, who knew all 
about the bell that haunted the wood, and was 
surprised that his master had not heard it before. 

'' The Papists say it’s rung by angels,” he said, 
'' and our people say devils. Some that have sense 
tell that long ago when the ‘ massers ’ were hiding 
their things a bell got into a tree, and the tree grew 
round it, and it never could be found. They say 
your grandfather, sir, cut down many trees, full 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


105 


sure he had tracked the sound, but gave it up. 
It takes a big wind to ring it, and still there’s many 
a storm when it doesn’t ring at all.” 

The idea seized Ingoldesby with fascination. 
Sometimes he haunted the woods with thoughts 
very curious to himself, and lay awake at night 
listening, but the bell did not ring again, though 
the weather continued windy. The knowledge 
that these eerie sounds would be sacred in Brona’s 
ears, impressed him with a sort of reverence for the 
legend told by Judkin. Brona hiding her crucifix, 
as he knew she must do, came vividly before him as 
he saw in imagination the ” massers ” dropping their 
bell into a hollow tree. 

What a strange faith it was that seized on all 
earthly material as its own, and even associated 
common things with God by invoking His blessing 
upon their use, things made by the hands of men, 
for His service ! He had given up the idea of idolatry 
in connection with Brona’s religion. He knew that 
her crucifix was nothing to her except inasmuch as 
it imaged the martyred Arch-Hero of her spiritual 
warfare. Her fidelity, so maddening to her lover’s 
impatience, had become beautiful to him as a 
feature of her character. 


XIV 

The visit of Colonel Slaughterhouse had not im- 
proved Turlough’s spirits or temper. He had felt 
bitterly the evident contempt of the English soldier, 
not realising that he was despised for his cowardly 
subservience to the enemy, rather than as the son 
of a proscribed father who might at any moment 
be dispossessed of his property. He had also seen 
the stranger’s admiration of his sister, and her 
avoidance of such notice. He returned to his 
reproaches of Brona for her want of generosity in 
withdrawing from the attentions of those who 
were powerful to spare and to protect. He, 
Turlough, had done his best to propitiate Slaughter- 
house, and he cultivated the goodwill of Ingoldesby 
at every opportunity. But the attitude of his father 
and sister rendered all his efforts useless. These 
two were deaf to his complaints and appeals, and 
Aideen, who was the only one to listen to his ill- 
humoured speeches, was a weak creature, who wept 
silently at his threats and revilings. 

io6 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


107 


As he sat sulking in his own room, or wandered 
about the bit of beach between the sombre cliffs, 
throwing pebbles in the sea, and longing for a boat 
to take him to France, he chafed at Aideen’s 
emptied purse, and growled in thought at Mac- 
Donogh, who, though he had carried him home in 
his vessel when Paris had not left him a sou, would 
not, if he arrived again to-morrow, take him back 
there penniless. Neither would MacDonogh, who 
was growing rich on his smuggling, lend him money, 
though he pretended to be a friend of the family. 
Altogether life had become intolerable. When 
Ingoldesby invited him to Ardcurragh such pleasure 
as he tasted there was tinctured with the bitterness 
of envy ; and yet here he had a ready listener to his 
repinings in Judkin, who thought it a monstrous 
thing that a fine, handsome, young gentleman of 
ancient family should be obliged to lead a slave’s 
life, because of the fad of his people for praying in 
holes and corners rather than in a decent church. 

Judkin’s conversation was much more to Fur- 
lough’s taste than Ingoldesby’s, and through an 
Englishman’s eyes he saw the folly of the Irish 
Catholic in losing this world, which was an undoubt- 
able reality, for the sake of holding on to his own 
fantastic notions of a world to come, the very 
existence of which, from any point of view, was 
problematical. 


io8 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


Why can’t your good father be content to be a 
Christian, sir ? ” said Judkin, encouraged to speak 
his mind. '' Look at my master ! Look at me ! 
Look at England ! All of us Christians ! ” 

Are you ? ” said Turlough dubiously. He was 
only twenty-one, and his catechism was fresh in his 
mind. 

'' Of course we are, according to law. We obey 
the law and don’t bother about particulars. Look 
at Paris ! Are we better or worse than Paris ? ” 

'' Better and worse are everywhere,” said Tur- 
lough sullenly. '' I’m not better and not worse 
myself than many a one.” 

That’s what it is to be a Christian,” argued 
Judkin. '' Then why not walk into a Christian 
church and show yourself ? You’re losing the sheep 
for the ha’porth of tar, as the saying is. The 
sheep’s the family property and the tar’s nothing 
but the bad name of Papist.” 

'' You’re putting the cart before the horse, as 
another saying is,” said Turlough with a grim 
smile that looked strange on his young face. “ My 
people would tell you that the sheep is the faith 
and the property is the tar. But at all events the 
property and the determination are my father’s.” 

“ All might be yours, sir, if you had the courage.” 

“ I haven’t,” said Turlough, and turned on his 
heel and left him. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 109 

Ingoldesby felt no pleasure in the visits of the 
discontented youth, yet persisted in giving him the 
hospitality he so eagerly accepted, with some idea of 
keeping him out of mischief, and with the intention 
of relieving his family of his disquieting presence. 
He easily perceived Furlough’s preference for 
Judkin’s society to his own, and often allowed the 
visitor to choose for himself in the matter. Some- 
times he had the impulse to offer him money to take 
him back to Paris, and keep him there for a time, 
but prudence withheld him from the step, assuring 
him that nothing could come of it but greater 
embarrassment for everybody concerned. 

Hugh also felt that his kindness to the restless 
young man was amply repaid by Morogh O’Loghlin’s 
increasing friendship and trust in himself, by 
Aideen’s gratitude expressed at every opportunity, 
and above all by the look of restful confidence in 
Brona’s eyes which now met his gladly whenever 
he appeared. And the fact that Furlough had 
become a link between him and the family at 
Castle O’Loghlin, moderated his dislike of the 
graceless member of the family, and enabled him 
to tolerate one who under other circumstances he 
would have carefully shunned. 

Occasionally he took solitary walks across the 
bog and moorland, learning the track through the 
wilderness, and finding an unaccountable pleasure 


no 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


in pursuing that devious track, with its strange 
and lawless purpose, and its double danger to feet 
that persistently travelled it with a heroism pitiable 
to the uninitiated. He knew now how to avoid 
the treacherous bog-hole and the stretch of soft 
slushy earth that looked solid and trustworthy, 
but lured to death by suffocation in wells of liquid 
mud. He desired to be familiar with the way to 
the spot where the secret Mass was said, and to 
locate it in his memory, with a feeling that some 
day occasion might arise for leading a spy or a 
search party astray, to hinder a surprise of daring 
lawbreakers, of whom Brona would probably be one. 


XV 

On a grey October evening, an hour before twilight, 
Hugh paused on the devious bog path, a little at 
fault. Dusky clouds were blurring the edges of 
distant mountains on one side, and white mist- 
wreaths were winding themselves among the low- 
lying woods on another. In the west a small lake 
of lurid gold seemed ready to spill its waters over 
the brown and purple far-stretching plain of the 
lonely bog. An air of deep desolation hung over 
the land, beauty eerie and enchanted was there, 
wrapped in mourning garments that swept the 
solitude and trailed across the faint gleam of the 
water, and dipped into darkness. Here and there 
a red-gold glare betrayed the cruel bog-hole. Now 
and again the whimper of a plover broke the still- 
ness. Ingoldesby stood and took a long look around 
him, feeling intensely the magic of the scene and the 
hour. Bringing his gaze slowly from one point to 
another he became aware of a figure approaching 
from a distance, and waited as it drew nearer. 


III 


II2 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


coming straight to meet him. With a little painful 
shock he perceived that it was Father Aengus, the 
friar, the man who was hunted like a wolf, with a 
price on his head. 

Will he scent danger and run ? ” asked In- 
goldesby of himself. “ He says he has many 
hiding-places. Does he wholly trust me ? 

Father Aengus was praying as he walked. His 
dark eyes were fixed on the golden well in the sombre 
sky. He started when he saw Ingoldesby, but held 
out his hand and smiled. Hugh thought he looked 
like a spirit such as might haunt these wilds, with 
his pallid face, his eyes holding their strange dream, 
his spare frame shrouded in the brown garb and 
bound with the rough cord of the sons of St Francis. 

'' You are a brave man,” said Hugh, after he had 
clasped the long lean hand. 

'' Brave ? I have nothing to fear from you, even 
if I were disposed to fear anyone.” 

“You ought to be under cover at this hour.” 

“ Not if a soul’s need keeps me in the open,” said 
Father Aengus smiling. “ And to say truth, I 
never feel so safe as when under God’s roof of the 
sky. Here danger is to myself alone. Under any 
other roof I am a danger to some of my flock.” 

Hugh looked at him with a sudden sense of 
exasperation. Here was the type of creature who 
was an ideal to certain minds. Here was an 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


113 

embodiment of the fascination that held Brona 
enslaved. He felt a swift desire to shock this 
dreamer out of his dreams, if only for a moment. 

'' What a madness it all is ! ” he said, striking 
the stone under his feet with his oaken stick. 

Ah ! ” said the priest, '' not madness, but the 
sanity of God.” 

“ Is it not madness to reject the good of life, to 
court death ? ” 

“ Not if God requires it. He makes His appointed 
uses of our lives. There is no such thing as death 
for those who do His will. When life appears to 
cease there is only a happy change, simply the 
casting of the flesh by the glorified spirit, the 
vacating of a hovel for entrance into the kingdom 
of the Father.” 

'' I have heard all this before,” said Ingoldesby, 
'' but I do not believe in it. Other creeds than yours 
make the same claim, and still the world goes on, 
and men die and no one comes back to verify the 
statements of prophets, to make good the promises 
of priests.” 

'' God came on earth and died — and came back,” 
said Father Aengus. Is that not sufficient veri- 
fication ? ” 

'' So they said seventeen hundred years ago,” 
said Hugh, and they also said He came to bring 

peace and love, and yet men have never ceased since 

8 


II4 O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 

then to torture and persecute each other in His 
name.” 

'' He brought the cross. He bore it, and we 
carry it after Him,” said the friar. A glow shone 
on his face, as if the ruddy splendour now spread- 
ing along the western horizon had kindled fire in the 
eyes so deeply sunken under his ivory brows. 

” I know your theory, the same that the early 
Christians held — in their torment ! But, granted 
your faith for a moment. Seventeen hundred 
years have passed. You say He died and came 
back. If He did come back for a few days. He 
went again, and returns no more.” 

” Nay,” said the priest. ” He never went — 
except visibly.” 

Ingoldesby checked a slight laugh and said, ” I 
am aware that believers hold that the presence 
of God is everywhere. The universe is filled with 
it, exists by it.” 

” True.” 

” But men believed that before He came, as you 
say, visibly, and came again, and went again, and 
returned no more. Why did He go and leave 
nothing behind for men to hold by, more than the 
pagan had held by ? ” 

” He never went,” said the priest. ” He has 
stayed with us ever since, not merely as that ever- 
enduring eternal presence of the Creator which 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


115 

has always been the breath of men, but as an actual 
human Presence under veils/’ 

Ingoldesby made an impatient movement. 

'' Wait a moment,” said the friar. He does 
not walk visibly, as He did for thirty-three years 
with a few who timidly acknowledged Him, and 
in a world that counted Him no more than one 
of its own, gone mad with vain egotism ; a world 
that would not believe in Him even when He 
quitted the tomb into which they had sealed 
Him.” 

You are wandering from the point,” said Hugh. 
If, as you say. He came and went and is here no 
more except as the pagan knew Him, where is His 
love ? If He did come the world has had time to 
forget Him, and again raises its temples to the 
unknown God.” 

He never went,” repeated Father Aengus. 
'' He is here.” 

'' In the vague All-Presence ? ” 

'' In His humanity. In His flesh and blood. As 
the Bread we break from morn to morn. As the 
unfailing Food of living man. As the Companion 
Who leads him through the narrow pass called 
death. As the Medicine that cures the soul of the 
disease of sin, and strengthens it throughout mortal 
life to endure mortal suffering.” 

“ This is raving ! ” cried Hugh. 


ii6 O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 

“ He who accepted the help of the humble 
Cyrenean to carry His cross to Calvary, gives His 
own strong Arm to carry ours/’ 

As how ? ” 

“ In the Sacrament of His love. In the Mass. 
In the Communion.” 

Madness ! madness ! ” reiterated Hugh. '' This 
is how you terrorise men and poison women’s minds. 
With your dreams and mysteries you scare delicate 
imaginations, and lure tender hearts into bondage. 
Why do you not go back to where your dreams are 
not penalised, and leave people like those who 
harbour you in their homes to find their way to 
rational conviction, and to the safety in life which 
it would ensure them ? ” 

'' Why ? ” said Father Aengus, '' because their 
souls are as precious to me as my own, and my God 
and their God forbids me to desert them.” 

Ingoldesby was startled even in his anger by the 
transfigured appearance of the creature before him, 
the rapt expression of the face, the form almost 
visionary in its spareness caught into the light 
of the western afterglow. But surprise quickly 
changed to horror of the man and his aspect 
of supernatural power, and Ingoldesby suddenly 
felt that as he would not injure him he must 
remove himself out of the danger of future 
provocation. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 117 

Unnatural, uncanny, wicked ! ” he said as he 
turned away with an abrupt good evening,” and 
began to pick his way back by the paths that had 
led him to this very unsatisfactory encounter with 
a dangerous fanatic. 


XVI 

After this Ingoldesby’s most bitter hatred of 
Roman superstition was revived, and he was more 
tolerant of Turlough, looking on him as one in 
cruel subjection, as a man robbed of his masculine 
liberty, controlled by the leading strings of a false 
conscience. His love for Brona was becoming 
a torture, his sympathy for Morogh changing to 
contempt. He felt it impossible to go to Castle 
O’Loghlin, and asked himself would it not be wise 
to leave this miserable country and try to forget 
that he had ever seen it. In a passion of rebellion 
against fate, he strove to hate the woman who 
preferred this dark bondage to his love, choosing 
in sorrow and danger rather than live with him in 
the sunshine of the life he could give her. In this 
mood he remained aloof from Burren, and after a 
spell of intolerable loneliness, he left Ardcurragh 
and went to pay visits to Protestant friends in 
another part of the country. 

His absence was keenly felt in different ways by 

ii8 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 119 

all the members of the family at Castle O’Loghlin. 
On Turlough it had a specially irritating and depress- 
ing effect. His frequent sojourns at Ardcurragh 
and the society of Judkin, had worked up his 
discontent to a pitch unendurable to his envious 
nature. Now that the occasional restraining in- 
fluence of a stronger masculine mind was removed, 
also the sympathy of Judkin who had departed 
with his master, young O’Loghlin gave himself up 
to thoughts which he did not share with anyone 
concerning the folly of acting on what is called 
principle, or on the dictates of a narrow conscience. 
When in Hugh's presence he had been well aware 
that the man he envied acted on principle and 
conscience, and then, why did these prompters 
urge different men to different courses of action ? 
Why should not his own father learn to live by the 
principle good enough to secure Ardcurragh for the 
forefathers of its present possessor ? Why should 
not Hugh Ingoldesby’s conscience be strict enough 
to rule the conduct of Turlough O’Loghlin ? 

As Hugh’s absence was prolonged, he grew more 
and more embittered, learning through letters from 
Judkin of the society enjoyed by his master, of the 
honour paid to him as a man of worth and weight 
taking up his position in the county. There were 
hints of favour shown him by ladies of birth and 
beauty, even of a probable marriage, highly desirable 


120 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


from every point of view. It was evident to 
Furlough that Hugh had grown tired of stupid 
people like the O’Loghlins, fools who were content 
to live the life of the proscribed, when by a slight 
effort they could shuffle off disgrace and accept 
what was offered to them, equality with the best, 
as well as the distinction awaiting those who had 
understanding and courage to renounce the evils 
of law-breaking, and rank themselves with the 
enlightened and emancipated. He felt particularly 
assured that Hugh had ceased to care for Brona, 
seeing that he had removed himself from her 
neighbourhood, to the society of charming women 
who were in sympathy with him. 

Brooding over all these circumstances Furlough 
made up his mind to remonstrate with Morogh on 
his apathy as to the downward drifting of the family 
fortunes, and one morning he rose with a big resolve, 
which grew smaller and weaker as the day went on, 
and died before night, leaving him in a state of 
cowardly irresolution. Fhen set in another miser- 
able spell of chafing at the stagnation of the life he 
had to endure, and at his own impotence to play 
any part that he held worthy of a man, till at last 
he flung himself into his father’s presence, uttering 
rebellion against all the powers, spiritual and 
temporal, railing at the state of things that kept 
him in his youth a prisoner, debarred from entering 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


I2I 


a profession, from mixing in society fitting his rank, 
and calling on Morogh to do the only thing that 
could save his children from this living death, by 
rising up like a man and conforming to the religion 
prescribed by the law of the realm. 

Morogh was reading in his library when this storm 
burst upon him. He did not close his book, but 
sat in his chair staring at his son, as if he had been 
some uncanny apparition. The young man’s face 
was flushed, his hair and dress were disordered. 

Turlough, you have been drinking,” said his 
father. Go to your bed and sleep off this excite- 
ment. To-morrow morning you and I will both 
forget all the wild nonsense you have been talking.” 

I shall not forget it,” said Turlough. '' I have 
thought about it all too long ever to forget it. If 
you are satisfied to finish your life in slavery, I am 
determined that I will not sacrifice the whole of 
mine to an idea.” 

He spoke surlily with his eyes on the floor, unable 
to look Morogh in the face. 

''You cannot mean what you say, you unhappy 
boy.” 

" Unhappy I am, but I am not a boy. I am 
twenty-one, with power to take matters into my 
own hands, and to act for the good of the family.” 

He looked up now, his handsome features dis- 
torted with passion, and glared once at Morogh, 


122 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


whose white set face seemed to provoke him to 
greater fury. It is true that he had relied on wine 
to give him the daring necessary for uttering what 
was in his mind. Now that he had spoken, he 
stood up and shook himself like one rising out 
of a bitter dream, surprised to see things real 
and familiar around him. Morogh waited a few 
moments before he answered. An indescribable 
change passed over his face and his mouth trembled. 
At last he spoke. 

You cannot mean what your words would seem 
to hint,” he said. '' Too many things are involved. 
I can forgive a great deal of impatience to your 
youth and your peculiar temperament. But you 
are not without conscience and intelligence. I shall 
expect you to retract what you have said as soon 
as you have returned to your proper senses.” 

Turlough quailed under his father’s look of con- 
tempt, and left the room with bowed head, but 
without an idea of retracting his words or intention. 
He slunk into his aunt’s pretty French apartment, 
where she sat working at a rare piece of church 
embroidery in coloured silks and gold, a banner 
for the Lady chapel of her dear friends of the 
Convent of the Annonciades. She was the only 
person Turlough was not afraid to bully. He was 
in her eyes what an only and wilful son often is in 
the eyes of a weak mother. She adored]and screened 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


123 


him from blame, even while threatening chastise- 
ments which were never given him. The only 
punishment in her power was the tightening of her 
purse-strings, but only when it was empty had she 
ever been able to keep his hand out of that small, 
too-liberal treasury. 

As she saw his face at the door now, her first 
thought was too much wine,’’ and she prepared 
to soothe his excitement, to excuse his condition 
out of the depths of the pity of her heart for his 
youth and misfortunes. He threw himself on a 
seat with an air of bravado, and when half an hour 
later he left the room, Aideen had put away her 
embroidery out of harm’s way from falling tears. 

Brona was in the garden, a green acre that sloped 
away behind the castle in the direction of the sea. 
The grey mountains had lost their fairy-like 
opalescent tints, and looked like the bastions reared 
for defence in some great warfare. She was working 
in short daylight for the spring to come, never so 
content as when so working. The sea, the moun- 
tains, and the mysteriously fruitful earth were all, 
to her, visible expressions of God. Real misfortune 
seemed impossible. 

The knowledge that Hugh Ingoldesby wanted to 
make her happy had realised his desire by making 
her happy. His love was like an unexpected 
inheritance dropped down on her, even though it 


124 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


could bring her nothing, as things and nothings 
are reckoned by the world. It gave her a spiritual 
vested right in his soul. The external barrier 
between them did not exist in the eyes of God Who 
had sent him across her path, Who was urging her 
to care and pray for him. The consciousness, the 
joy of it enveloped her like an atmosphere un- 
perceived by others. Her secret gladness was like 
the fragrance of hidden violets to one walking 
solitary, or the faint incense lingering in a sanctuary 
deserted by all but one watcher. 

She had never told anyone that Hugh had asked 
her to be his wife. It must remain her secret till 
the end of her life. The idea that she was never to 
marry had always been present to her. The 
happiest natural things of life were not for her. 
Her duty was to her faith and her father, her joy 
in the promises of God. Having struggled with 
the disturbing sweetness of his presence, she could 
be happy in his absence. She could send her 
winged thoughts and prayers to him by the angels 
always travelling between soul and soul, ascending 
and descending by Jacob’s ladder to their beneficent 
God with reports and messages. Her young face, 
with its glowing tints, heightened and sweetened 
by her labours, shone in the open air like a beauti- 
ful jewel against the grey sky. She looked up, saw 
Aideen coming, and stood leaning on her hoe. 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


125 


'' O Aideen, you are weeping ! 

'' Turlough ! 

“ Turlough again. You take his complaints too 
much to heart. Let him grumble ! ” 

Aideen stood shedding bitter tears. 

'' This is worse than grumbling. He threatens 
to take the property out of Morogh’s hands, and rob 
his father by conforming.’' 

‘‘ Silly ! ” said Brona, but the rose on her face 
faded a little. '' A silly threat. Turlough wouldn’t 
— couldn’t.” 

'' He is of age. We are in his power.” 

Brona did not speak. Aideen’s manner urged 
on her that she had been impressed in an extra- 
ordinary degree by the new attitude of her nephew. 

There is only one way of warding off this blow 
— to get him back to Paris,” said Aideen, and 
there is only one way of getting money for that — 
to sell my jewels. I can get it done by taking them 
to Paris. MacDonogh will take us there — Turlough 
and myself.” 

'' Monstrous ! ” said Brona. Sell your jewels 
for such a purpose ? If Turlough were capable of 
acting as you suppose, your sacrifice would not 
prevent him. It would only stave off the worst 

for a time. But I will not believe ” 

I thought you would have helped,” said Aideen. 
'' You have jewels.” 


126 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


My mother’s ! Sell to prove Turlough a 
criminal ? ” cried Brona indignantly. 

'' To save him from crime. To save your father 
from indigence.” 

Brona ’s eyes had flashed and her cheeks had 
burned. She was silent a few moments, and 
stirred the earth with her hoe. Then she said 
quietly : 

” You are suffering from scare, Aideen. I 
believe in my brother. He will never take the step 
you are fearing.” 

” If Mr Ingoldesby were at home we might ask 
him to advise Turlough. He respects Ingoldesby, 
though he envies him. But he tells me that 
Ingoldesby has tired of this dull part of the country, 
and that we shall see no more of him. The latest 
news is that he is engaged to be married to an 
Englishwoman, who is a visitor at the house where 
he is staying.” 

Brona was again silent. Aideen watched her nar- 
rowly. Was she really as indifferent to Hugh as she 
had shown herself to all other men. 

'' Is it true ? ” asked Brona carelessly. 

Why not true ? Mr Ingoldesby is an admirer 
of beauty, and I think he is the kind of man who 
would fall in love in haste. He must feel lonely 
at Ardcurragh, and would probably think he must 
marry if he means to stay in this dreary country.” 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


127 


But why should his movements have anything 
to do with Turlough ? I simply put my faith in my 
brother’s honesty. He is sorely tried, being what 
he is — but he is honest.” 

“ Then go and talk to him yourself, Brona. I 
can say no more.” 

Brona went and talked to him. She found him 
sitting in his room, leaning his elbows on the back 
of a tilted chair, his face between his hands, scowling 
through the window at the fading sky, looking like 
a sullen schoolboy who had been thrashed. She 
walked up to him and said simply : 

'' Turlough, you couldn’t do it.” 

Couldn’t I ? ” he growled. 

I mean you wouldn’t. Look at me, Turlough. 
Why have you vexed father and frightened 
Aideen ? ” 

You to talk to me ! You who wouldn’t do 
anything to save the situation ! You’ve left it 
to me.” 

She had placed herself before him, and he was 
obliged to look at her, but against his will, for 
something in the clear eyes of his young sister was 
ever a reminder to him of the inferiority of his own 
nature. If he loved any creature in the world 
besides himself it was Brona. But the spark of 
affection was so buried under a mass of selfishness 
that it only smouldered to no purpose. 


128 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


'' Give me your word, my brother, that you 
spoke in a moment of irritation. We are all tried.” 

The tender tone only gave Turlough more courage 
to be brutal. 

“ If you had married Ingoldesby things might 
have righted themselves. You have sent him off 
to marry another woman, and that chance is 
lost.” 

You don't think of what you are saying,” said 
Brona. " If you look things in the face, you must 
see that for Mr Ingoldesby, even if he wished it 
(which you have no right to believe), marriage with 
a Catholic would mean his ruin, while it would not 
benefit you or father.” 

"Not if you were a proper wife, and followed 
your husband. You would have a year to think 
about it. But it is too late now. He is engaged 
to be married to Lady Kitty Carteret.” 

" And therefore is safe,” said Brona. 

"You are a piece of cold marble,” said Turlough. 
" I know you care for him. Well, then, if you are 
obstinate why shouldn’t I be the same ? Slaughter- 
house means to come back and drop down on us at 
some moment when we are unprepared, with no 
friend to interfere for us. You were haughty to 
him, too, and you will be again.” 

" Turlough, you are mad on this point. If I 
were to turn coquette, how would it mend matters ? 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


129 

Why do you not join the Brigade under Lord 
Clare ? 

'' I am no soldier,” growled Turlough. 

“ No, indeed,” sighed Brona in the depths of her 
heart. 

'' I want to inherit the property of my ancestors, 
to hold up my head in the county, to take rank 
among my fellows.” 

'' At what cost ? ” 

'' D the cost ! ” cried Turlough savagely. 

“ Are we always to be slaves ? ” 

There was a painful silence. Brona turned to 
go, but turned back and placed her hand gently on 
his shoulder. 

” Turlough,” she said, ” I thought you loved me 
a little.” 

At the soft touch and tone that buried spark 
stirred under the mass of selfishness and made 
itself faintly felt. 

Promise me, my brother, that you will not do 
this thing.” 

” I am not going to do anything at present,” 
said Turlough surlily. ” Tell Aideen to stop 
whining. I can’t bear it.” 


9 


XVII 


About this time Mrs Delany in Delville received a 
letter from Miss Jacquetta Ingoldesby. 

Dear Friend,— You will see by the above address 
that I am staying here with friends. I shall remain 
with them for another week or so, and then I shall 
go to Ardcurragh, where I hope I may see you soon. 
The truth is I have been anxious about my nephew, 
your friend Hugh, on account of certain reports 
from his trusty man Judkin, and this has been my 
chief reason for leaving England in acceptance of a 
long-standing invitation from the Stodarts. 

We have here at present a pleasant company, 
including Hugh, who seems to have forgotten his 
penchant for that interesting and dangerous Miss 
O'Loghlin, and who is now attentive in his own way 
to Lady Kitty Carteret, a charming young widow 
whom the Stodarts met last year at Bath. She is a 
pretty and attractive creature, extremely rich, with 
no encumbrance, and my meeting with her here 
seems to me quite providential. 

You will easily perceive what I mean. I have 
been a mother to Hugh since he was quite a little 
boy, and I will not desert him now, just when he 
requires guidance. 


130 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


131 

My plan is to carry off Lady Kitty to Ardcurragh, 
make up a house party, which I hope will include 
my dearest Mary Delany (and the Dean, if we can 
induce him to come), give some pleasant entertain- 
ments, and make my nephew feel that his lonely 
house which he inhabits like an owl in a tree-hole, 
can be turned into a genial and hospitable home. 
When I see him happily married I shall feel that my 
responsibilities with regard to him are over. 

You, my dear friend, can help me to accomplish 
my desires. No one admires and esteems you more 
than Hugh, and your approval of the charming 
Lady Kitty would influence him more than even 
mine. Mothers and aunts may be suspected of 
too great a wish to interfere, but a friend like 
you (where is there another hke you ?) is above 
suspicion. 

Mrs Delany at breakfast in her delightful bower- 
room, from which she could see the ships riding in 
the harbour, smiled over this letter, and handed it 
across the table to the Dean. 

'' Jacquetta is very amusing,” she said, she is 
never happy unless she can plot and plan for some- 
body. Hugh Ingoldesby is not the sort of man to 
be plotted and planned for, and at the best it is 
risky work making up marriages.” 

I agree that the best marriages make them- 
selves,” said the Dean, but if Ingoldesby is really 
taken with this charming Lady Kitty ” 

Mrs Delany shook her head. “ Hugh is no lady’s 
man to flit from one to another as Jacquetta would 


132 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


suggest. If he is really caught by the charming 
Lady Kitty, he will not require his aunt’s assistance 
in arranging his affairs. And if the situation exists 
only in her imagination, she will be very likely to do 
mischief.” 

'' Well, my love, I think you might do some good 
by just going to see,” said the Dean. 

Let us go then ! ” said his wife. 

Put me out of the question,” said the Dean. 

I don’t think I could bear to look on at life as it is 
in the county of Clare at present. Your feminine 
sympathies with the affairs of your friends will 
distract your mind from things outside your circle, 
but as a man I could have no such resource, and to 
be a passive witness of barbarous injustice would 
be too much for my nerves.” 

“ I shall certainly not enter into the plot against 
Hugh,” said Mrs Delany still pondering her friend’s 
letter. I have seen him pass unaffected by the 
charms of many attractive Lady Kittys. I have 
too much respect for his sense and judgment to try 
to influence him in such a matter ; and I don’t 
wish to lose his good opinion by seeming to interfere 
in any way in his affairs.” 

'' Spoken like your wise self,” said the Dean, 
smiling approval, while his wife gathered up her 
letters with a little laugh of enjoyment of the 
approval, and went to accept the invitation of her 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


133 

friend Jacquetta ; for reasons of her own, which 
had nothing to do with Lady Kitty. 

A fortnight later Miss Jacquetta and her guest, 
Lady Kitty Carteret, set out on a cold day in 
January, in the Ingoldesby family coach, to meet 
Mrs Delany at the last coaching stage of her journey 
into Clare. Lady Kitty was elated at the prospect 
of meeting the delightful Mrs Delany, of whom she 
had heard so much in London, one who had been 
married in extreme youth to an uncongenial 
husband, and who as a widow had refused many 
brilliant offers of marriage to find happiness in 
circumstances scarcely satisfactory to her relatives 
and admirers, though perfect to herself. 

In the early marriage and the unlovable husband 
Lady Kitty felt that there was a parallel in her own 
case with that of Mrs Delany, also in her early 
widowhood and the subsequent rejection of many 
suitors. But here she thought the similarity of 
fortunes must end. In a second marriage she should 
require something more romantic to her own 
imagination, and more showy in the eyes of the 
world than Mary Pendarves had been content with 
when she settled down in a little demesne in a 
suburb of Dublin as the wife of an Irish Dean. 

Meanwhile Mrs Delany had arrived at the inn of 
her destination, and was handed out of the coach 
by a handsome young gentleman, who in courtly 


134 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


manner introduced himself as the son of an old 
friend of hers, Morogh O’Loghlin by name. A good 
fire in the inn’s best apartment and tea had been 
ordered and prepared by his thoughtfulness for 
her comfort. Pleasantly surprised and charmed 
by the young man’s appearance, manners, and 
attentions, Mrs Delany asked herself, while she 
warmed her feet and sipped her tea, whether this 
could be Furlough, the youth of whose objection- 
able qualities she had gathered some indistinct 
impressions. 

'' I thought there was only one son,” she reflected, 
'' but I must have been mistaken. A young man 
like this will be a comfort to the family.” She was 
in the midst of her genial inquiries for her old 
friend Morogh and her young friend Brona, when 
interrupted by the entrance of Miss Ingoldesby 
and Lady Kitty ; on which Turlough immediately 
withdrew. 

Who is the handsome Spaniard ? ” asked Lady 
Kitty, with a degree of interest that rather detracted 
from her pleasurable excitement at meeting the 
expected Mrs Delany. 

It is that graceless young man Turlough 
O’Loghlin,” said Miss Jacquetta sharply, not at 
all pleased at the meeting. 

“ I am agreeably surprised,” said Mrs Delany. 

He has been most kind and attentive.” 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


135 

'' Rather presumptuous, I think,” said Miss 
Jacquetta. 

** His father is an old friend of mine,” protested 
Mrs Delany. 

'' My dear Mary, your friends are legion, and your 
charity is for the multitude,” said Miss Jacquetta. 

My nephew has been very kind to these people.” 

A shade came over Mrs Delany’s face, not 
unnoticed by Lady Kitty, who turned her sparkling 
eyes with an air of charming defiance on Miss 
Ingoldesby, and said with lively emphasis : 

'' It is one of the most romantic figures and hand- 
somest faces I have ever met with ! ” 

Meanwhile Furlough was glad to escape from the 
inn before the ladies could observe his sorry mount 
on one of Morogh’s horses, an animal hardly of a 
breed or style to gratify the rider’s vanity. From 
Judkin he had heard of Mrs Delany ’s expected 
arrival, and he had contrived an opportunity to 
make acquaintance with the friend of his father 
and sister in a manner likely to find favour for him- 
self. His ride to meet the coach had proved more 
successful than he had reckoned on in the unlooked- 
for encounter with the ladies from Ardcurragh ; Miss 
Ingoldesby ’s frowns were of little account. Mrs 
Delany had accepted his attentions, and Lady Kitty’s 
glances of approval made his nerves still tingle with 
pleasure as he jumped on his despised '' garron.” 


136 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


While he rode home many cunning schemes jostled 
each other in his brain, for the improvement of his 
condition by pleasant, and perhaps even by honest 
means. In all of them Mrs Delany was an agree- 
able factor ; Hugh Ingoldesby an accommodating 
tool ; Miss Jacquetta was not allowed to count, a 
sour old spinster who would not be placated by any 
amount of flattery, or tricked into opening her door 
to any Papist wolf, even in the whitest of sheep’s 
clothing ! 

This brilliant Lady Kitty Carteret, the reputed 
fianc6e of Hugh Ingoldesby, was not so devoted to 
a prig but that she could perceive excellence in a 
man of different temper and complexion. How 
must he, Turlough, now contrive to meet her 
again ? Judkin had informed him of Miss Jac- 
quetta’s plans for entertaining her visitor. There 
was always of course the hunt, and Lady Kitty 
was known to be a plucky follower of the hounds. 
There were rumours of a fancy ball to which the 
county was to be invited. For Mrs Delany ’s sake, 
his sister and even he himself might be bidden, 
but Brona would never be induced to go, and 
Turlough was not at all assured that Miss Ingoldesby 
would give him a separate invitation. But for the 
hunt, Judkin would certainly get him a proper 
mount from the Ardcurragh stables. 


XVIII 


The approaching fancy ball at Ardcurragh was the 
talk of the county, and bidden guests were choosing 
their characters and preparing their costumes. 
Mrs Delany had failed to persuade Brona to be 
of the company, and was satisfied of the girl's 
wisdom in avoiding the society of the Ingoldesbys. 
Hugh had provokingly gone to pay another visit 
after leaving the Stodarts, instead of hastening to 
Ardcurragh to become engaged to Lady Kitty, but 
he had promised to return home in proper time for 
the ball. Mrs Delany had secured an invitation 
for Turlough, and Aideen was busy with the details 
of his dress in the character of the Cid Campeador. 

The Marquise was happy when she saw her petted 
boy arrayed in the picturesque costume which was 
bound to embarrass her financially for at least a 
year to come. That the gentry of the Ascendancy 
should behold his physical superiority — the 
splendour, as she put it, of his health, strength, and 
masculine beauty — was extremely gratifying to 
137 


138 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


her, and at one moment she even coveted an 
invitation for herself that she might witness his 
triumph. 

'' I could go as a fortune-telling gipsy,’’ she said, 

or as any other ” 

A volley of rude words hurled from cruel depths 
to the surface of Turlough’s unwonted good humour 
silenced her, and the sentence so interrupted was 
never completed. 

At no time of its history had the mansion of 
Ardcurragh been the scene of so brilliant an enter- 
tainment. All the best rooms were thrown open, 
and the lights of its windows shone in the landscape 
like the mountainous heap of diamonds in an eastern 
fable. The very novelty of such a pageant in the 
wilds of Clare stirred the imagination of the country- 
side, and as the rooms filled with picturesque 
figures, it was evident that the affair was to be a 
success beyond the dreams of the hostess. Hugh 
Ingoldesby did not disappoint his aunt, but received 
her guests in the character of the Earl of Essex, 
while Miss Jacquetta herself made a very fair 
attempt at an impersonation of Queen Elizabeth. 
Mrs Delany, unprepared for such doings at Ard- 
curragh, appeared in the simple pink damask ” 
and white kerchief edged with gold, mentioned by 
her in a letter to her sister as having been worn by 
her at Dublin Castle on an unexpected occasion ; 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


139 


very becoming to her lovely face of great sweet- 
ness, fair curly hair, dove’s eyes, and brilliant 
complexion ” as described by her husband, the 
Dean of St Werbergh’s. 

Many eyes were turned on the Cid when he made 
his appearance, and when he and Lady Kitty, in 
the character of Anne Boleyn, took the floor ” 
in a stately measure, other dancers were overlooked 
for the moment, while Furlough achieved the 
triumph that his ambitions had so cunningly 
planned and so fiercely desired. His triumph was 
the more evident as Lady Kitty, the centre of 
interest of the hour, distinguished him by her 
marked attentions, partly from a capricious desire 
to surprise the crowd, partly from genuine admira- 
tion of the handsome Spaniard as she called him, 
and a good deal from pique at the polite indifference 
of Ingoldesby, who behaved with equal courtesy to 
all the ladies of the company. 

People were asking who he was, and on hearing 
that he was the son of Morogh O’Loghlin, they 
concluded that he had broken away from the 
trammels of Popery and become one of themselves ; 
and in spite of a little jealousy there was a general 
disposition to welcome him from under his cloud 
of misfortune into the light of their own prosperity. 
If the beautiful and wealthy Kitty Carteret were 
to bestow her coveted hand on him, then indeed 


140 O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 

such a partnership would be an acquisition to the 
country. It was evident, thought some of the 
onlookers, that such a denouement was probable, 
judging by the disturbed countenance of Miss 
Jacquetta, and also by the sullen looks of young 
Stodart, the hero of the horse-stealing adventure, 
who was obliged to stand aside while the charming 
stranger gave yet another dance to the despised 
and insulted owner of the stolen Arab. 

A few fair ladies, disposed to accord favour to 
Ingoldesby or to Stodart, were not displeased to 
see Lady Kitty with all her excelling charms swept 
out of the running of rivalry, and were more willing 
to smile on the audacity and good fortune of the 
Papist O’Loghlin. Glances from bright eyes and 
whispers caught amid a buzz of voices and the 
clang of dance music, made Turlough aware of his 
triumph. Not only had he won favour of Lady 
Kitty, but that even in the eyes of a social crowd, 
which did not, however, include his irritated 
hostess. In truth Miss Jacquetta’s sole comfort in 
the situation was her knowledge of Lady Kitty as a 
finished coquette, and her belief that she was 
probably now at play with an unimportant admirer, 
merely to arouse ardour and jealousy in one more 
prized. 

Furlough's triumph lasted for a few weeks. He 
went a -hunting, mounted from the Ardcurragh 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


141 

stables, and had long rides with Lady Kitty on days 
when there was nothing but pleasure to hunt. 
Very gratifying were the invitations to dinner from 
Miss Jacquetta, obliged by the caprice of her guest 
and the generosity of her impracticable nephew, 
and a climax was reached when Lady Kitty began 
to accompany Mrs Delany in her frequent visits 
to the OToghlin family. 

When coming to Clare, Mrs Delany had in view 
the rescuing of Brona from the dreariness of her 
present existence, and though the girl had refused 
to return with her to Delville, she still hoped that 
the little nun, as she called her, would allow herself 
to be lured back to the world, where good things 
were certain to be in wait for her. And now the 
genial lady had a fresh interest in her sympathy 
and compassion for Turlough. She never doubted 
that Lady Kitty honestly intended to bestow on 
him the charms and possessions coveted by many 
more eligible admirers, and in her kindly judgment 
the pair were peculiarly well matched, in age, in 
mutual tastes, and in their worldly fortunes, which 
by contrast might be considered each as the comple- 
ment of the other. It did not occur to her that his 
family were not all of one mind with her on the 
subject, yet of the persons most concerned, Morogh 
perceived nothing in the situation, except that 
Turlough was for the moment giving no trouble. 


142 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


and that he seemed to be amusing himself. Brona 
instinctively distrusted the sincerity of Lady Kitty, 
and Aideen was the only one of the three who could 
see with the eyes of her brother’s early friend, and 
even far beyond the reach of them into a fortunate 
future. There came a day, however, when such 
dreams and fancies, circling around Lady Kitty 
like the butterflies coming with the white rose of 
June, vanished suddenly, a day when Turlough 
poured out his hopes in impassioned raptures, and 
was listened to by the lady he thought he had won 
with a cold surprise, and an assurance that he had 
completely misunderstood her. She had meant to 
be a sister to him. She would always be his friend, 
but she had no intention of marrying a second time. 
She had had enough of marriage, and was passion- 
ately in love with her liberty. A few days later 
she bade a smiling farewell to Ardcurragh, followed 
by Miss Ingoldesby in a hasty departure, and by 
Mrs Delany, the term of whose visit had expired, 
and who left her friends feeling disappointed in all 
her pleasant hopes of seeing some improvement in 
their isolated and unhappy position. 

When the short play of his imagined good fortune 
was over, the curtain down and the lights out, 
Turlough’s rage broke in a storm over the household 
at Castle O’Loghlin. Everyone was to blame for 
his disappointment, Brona for her cold reserve, his 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


143 


father for his pride of aloofness from the world, 
Aideen for everything that could not be laid to 
anyone else's account. All had conspired to 
disgust Lady Kitty with a miserable family, and to 
scare away the prosperity that had been stretching 
out both hands to the most unhappy and deserving 
member of it. 

A day came when Aideen was weeping in her room 
and Brona with pale lips sitting silent at her father’s 
knee, holding his cold hand and trying to look in his 
face with loving eyes of comfort. Turlough had 
then retired to his own quarters to brood over his 
incomprehensible failure, to endeavour to read the 
riddle of it, and to think out some new plan for 
retrieving his injured fortunes. 


XIX 

That little episode of Miss Jacquetta’s hospitality 
was gone like the summer flowers. The night lights 
in the windows at Ardcurragh had dwindled to a 
few in the rooms used by the master, who found 
himself solitary where late had been a crowd. But 
if there was little blaze from chandeliers within, 
flame from eastern skies lit the window panes from 
without as the nights began to close their eyes 
earlier, and the winter days stretched out cold 
hands to implore the spring. 

Hugh Ingoldesby felt the place intolerably 
lonely, and yet did not want any change. He had 
been out of sympathy alike with the people he had 
visited, and with the people who had visited him, 
and he was pleased to be alone. But though glad 
of the freedom of aloneness, an unreasonable sense 
of loneliness hindered his enjoyment of solitude. 
His one desire was to see Brona, and know how 
things were going on at Castle O'Loghlin, a desire 
restrained, because he knew that nothing but pain 

144 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


145 


could come of a renewal of the struggle between 
two spirits each strong in its own conception of 
faith and duty, and each bound to war against the 
convictions of the other. But though keeping 
aloof he did not want to go far away, especially 
while Furlough was still in the country. He had 
seen the young man's soaring hopes and their 
sudden fall, regretting that the disturber of the 
peace had not been removed from his family 
by marriage with a wealthy lady, who would 
have taken him away and provided for him. 
He had also caught a glimpse of Furlough’s fury, 
and heard a good deal about it from Judkin, 
who continued to sympathise with the manly 
young Papist, bound to suffer for the Papistry of 
a foolish old father. 

Hugh surrounded himself with books in his library, 
and took long rides in an opposite direction from 
Castle O’Loghlin, was out by dawn in the woods, 
where small hardy flowers were already breaking 
from their green sheaths, rose-veined wild-flowers 
and their blue-frocked sisters, and the white violets 
that in their pale chastened faces and their 
mysterious fragrance reminded him inexplicably 
of the personality of Brona. Never before had he 
noticed the movements of nature in the resurrection 
of life after the long winter’s death-like sleep. Fhere 

had been for him the changes of the seasons, with 

10 


146 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


their corresponding changes of pleasure and 
occupation. Each had its practical use for the 
earth, on and by which men lived, and it was 
a matter of course that summer did her duty in 
embroidering man’s path with flowers, and 
autumn in filling his granaries and providing 
him with the luxury of her fruits. For the 
rest there were the beauty and awfulness of 
landscapes, and the discomforts and pleasures 
alike of heat and cold. But the sweetnesses 
and tendernesses of spring in her close com- 
panionship with humanity were a revelation, 
threatening to soften his heart into the weakening 
of a hardy purpose. 

The first pipings of song-birds were a new kind 
of music to him. He had usually spent this time 
of the year abroad or in London, and the nest 
building, and courting, and exultant jubilation of 
married thrush and blackbird had been less known 
to him than the ways and voices and triumphant 
world-wide fame of the human singer in concert or 
oratorio. Now he listened in amazement as to 
minstrels bearing messages from another world. 
What did the blackbird talk about when he 
whispered to his mate just before the first cloud-lift 
of the dawn ? What was that long sweet clarion 
cry that echoed, reverberating down all the bud- 
leaved choirs of the yet half-bare sycamores and 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


147 


chestnut trees ? How could a bird, a small creature 
with a small heart and a mouth that was nothing 
but a tiny gold beak, utter such a shout of joy, 
merely because another feathered creature was close 
beside him, and there were eggs in the nest ? How 
different these from the turbulent birds of the cliffs, 
who shrieked forth defiance of all tender influences, 
and whose discordant notes voiced the inevitable 
cruelties of conscience ! The woods became haunted 
for him by ghosts of all the foregone joys of life, 
whose existence he had never realised till now when 
he saw them vanishing out of his reach. And 
one night when the wind sobbed at his windows, 
and soughed among the distant trees, he heard again 
the tolling of the mysterious bell from its unknown 
belfry (the trunk of some mighty oak or elm that 
had weathered the storms of centuries), and the 
eerie notes sounded like a stroke of doom, signalling 
the futility of all human hopes, and the folly of the 
jubilant existence of perishable wild -flower and 
song-bird. 

Then he began to realise that he was not leading 
the life of a healthy and sane man, and that he must 
make some effort to change the course of his 
thoughts, and to give himself some kind of com- 
panionship, were it to prove ever so uncongenial 
and even irksome. He delighted Judkin, who was 
feeling time heavy on his hands, by directing him 


148 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


to see to the state of the cellar, and to provide 
several new packs of cards, as he intended to 
invite a dinner party of masculine friends, such as 
love good wine and the excitement of a little 
gambling. 


XX 

On the evening of his dinner-party Hugh felt like 
himself again. The men bidden were all his peers 
in religion and politics, professed haters of Popery 
and lovers of common-sense. On his arrival in 
the country he had been welcomed among them as 
one more golden pillar of the Ascendancy. His 
round of visits had made him popular, more 
perhaps with the men than the women, who found 
him a little cold, the latter impression a good deal 
modified by his house-warming hospitality under 
Miss Jacquetta’s management. In the hunting 
field he was popular, and now that he was inaugurat- 
ing bachelor dinner-parties, his reputation as a giver 
of good wine was no way in his disfavour. Already 
some of the guests were in the drawing-room, when 
Judkin signalled that he wanted to speak a word 
to him privately. 

** Well ? ’’ said Hugh, having followed the man out 
of his room, “ has anything awkward happened ? 

It’s young Mr O’Loghlin, sir, come to ask for 

149 


150 O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 

the loan of one of your best horses to ride to 
Dublin." 

Hugh gave a little laugh. “ Cool," he said, 
'' upon my word ! What does he mean by it ? " 

'' Well, sir, from words he has dropped, I think 
he is off to discover on his father and take the 
property." 

“ The scoundrel ! " said Hugh. 

" I don’t quite agree with you there, sir," said 
Judkin. " I confess Tm glad he has got the pluck." 

'' Stay ! " said Hugh. " Where is he ? I must 
ask him to stop and join us at dinner, and remain 
the night. Set another place at the table, and have 
a room prepared. And, Judkin, let my best horse 
be got ready by daybreak and breakfast on the 
table at the same moment." 

He found Turlough in the library carefully 
dressed under his riding-coat, and assuming airs 
of assurance and self-satisfaction. Having formed 
his plan and thought his means of working it, 
Turlough relied on Ingoldesby for sympathy, if not 
for admiration like to Judkin’s, seeing that he was 
naturally taking a step in the right direction. 

''You are riding to Dublin ? " said Hugh. 

"Yes, I am going to arrange the affair of my 
family at last, to put things on a solid basis. It 
ought to have been done long ago, but I am only 
just of age, and so " 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


151 

You mean to discover on your father and take 
the property ? 

“ I intend to do it.” 

Ah, I see. Well, meantime, stop and dine. I 
happen to have a few bachelor friends to dinner. 
It’s weary work travelling the roads by night. 
Stay and have a pleasant evening, and in the 
morning you can have the pick of my horses for 
your journey.” 

Furlough hesitated. He felt restless till the deed 
was done. And these men who had seen him 
thrown over by Lady Kitty. He was not inclined 
to face them till he could do so as a respectable 
Protestant, and the legal owner of a property in 
the county. 

“ You are a judge of wine,” said Hugh. '' I have 
some that I would like you to test. And you have 
no dislike to a game of cards.” 

Furlough was conquered. 

'' Come to my dressing-room,” said Hugh. '' I 
will give my orders to Judkin for the morning. 

As dinner proceeded Furlough forgot his objection 
to antedating his success and popularity with the 
gentlemen of the county, and dropped many hints 
apologetic for father’s old-fashioned obstinacy, 
and suggestive of his own more wise intention of 
taking up a proper position at the earliest 
opportunity. By some of the men present he was 


152 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


approved and applauded, by others distrusted and 
disliked. Wine flowed, and Turlough’s self-conceit 
grew and burst into flower. He already saw himself 
entertaining such a party as this, with Lady Kitty 
(who would certainly listen to his next proposal) at 
the head of his table. Cards were discussed, and he 
won some money. Wine flowed again, and when 
all was done Furlough was intoxicated and had to 
be put to bed. Ingoldesby sat down to write letters, 
after which he went to breakfast at the hour of dawn 
as ordered. 

The horse is ready, sir,” said Judkin, '' but the 
young man is asleep, and the last trump wouldn’t 
awaken him.” 

'' Let him be,” said Hugh. When he comes 
to his senses give him what he wants, and the 
mount he came for. I am going myself to Dublin 
to prepare the way for him. You can tell him so if 
he asks for me.” 

As he rode out in the fair dawn, Hugh’s thoughts 
were with Brona. Indignation at the ruffianism 
he was outwitting gave place to pleasure at the 
opportunity for serving her and hers even in a 
manner so remote from his own more intimate 
desires as the saving of her father’s property from 
the covetous grip of her father’s son. Before 
rounding a certain curve of the road, obliterating 
the more familiar landscape, he turned in his 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


i53 


saddle to take a long look across the bog he was 
leaving behind him. At that very moment Brona 
might be hieing by intricate and hardly discoverable 
paths out to the Mass rock, where she might be 
tracked on any morning by Slaughterhouse or his 
men when they happened to make a raid on the 
country. Nothing, he told himself, but the urgency 
of his present mission ought to take him out of 
reach in case of her distress ; but after a few 
minutes of bitter uneasiness he remembered that 
Slaughterhouse was in his own way a gentleman, 
and that he had given a sort of promise not to harm 
the family at Castle O’Loghlin — even to forbear to 
hunt the priest so long as he kept within the walls. 

It was near noon when Furlough, still stupid and 
red-eyed, arrived in the breakfast-room. The other 
night-guests, victims of the bottle, had breakfasted 
and gone their ways, and the table was arrayed 
for service of one only. Furlough rang for Judkin, 
and asked to see his host. 

Gone to Dublin, sir, since daybreak. Left a 
message for you in case you wanted him.” 

” He said nothing last night about going,” 
growled Furlough. '' He promised me a horse. I 
was a confounded ass to wait here for his dinner 
party.” 

'' Well, sir, I heard him promise you the horse, 
and my master never goes back on his word. He 


154 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


gave me orders that you were to have everything 
you want. And if you were curious about his 
going off so sudden, I was to say that he had just 
gone on to Dublin to prepare the way for you. You 
will find him at Daly’s.” 

Turlough stared. He was still stupefied by his 
experience of the quality and variety of Hugh’s 
wines from an old and well-stocked cellar. 

'' I think, sir,” said Judkin, whose manner had 
become more deferential to O’Loghlin since he was 
about to become a legalised gentleman, “ I believe 
my master thought he could make matters easier 
for you.” 

A cup of strong coffee cleared Turlough’s brain 
a little, and he proceeded to make ready for his 
journey. The fact that Hugh had given orders 
about the horse, and that it was ready for him, 
restored his satisfaction with the present state of 
affairs, and Judkin having mounted him in superior 
style, saw him ride off in super-excellent spirits. 
As he pricked along, his brains restored to their 
normal condition by the invigorating airs of spring, 
Turlough congratulated himself on his pluck in this 
adventure, and especially on having gained the 
countenance of Ingoldesby, who had of late so 
shown disfavour by avoiding the rest of the family. 
He saw his future as O’Loghlin of Castle O’Loghlin 
opening before him in shining light and in glowing 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


155 


colours. His father and Brona were to be provided 
for somewhere, and Aideen was to be sent back to 
her friends in Paris. Lady Kitty’s money was to 
rebuild the Castle and to improve and extend the 
lands. He would bring the fellows who had despised 
him to their knees, take a high hand over them, and 
probably obtain a title in recognition of his services 
to the King in conforming to the established religion, 
and planting one more loyal family in the county. 
It was perhaps with intention of representing all 
this to the Lord-Lieutenant, who was a friend of 
his, that Ingoldesby had preceded him to Dublin 
at this crisis. If he had not been an idiot to allow 
himself to be overpowered with wine, he might 
have enjoyed the companionship of the master of 
Ardcurragh in his ride, but Ingoldesby was a man 
of the world, and no doubt had arranged the affair 
with a view to the most satisfactory results. 

In high good humour Turlough halted at the first 
stage of his journey, and entered the inn, calling 
for refreshment of the best that could be afforded 
him. The money won at cards the night before 
enabled him to swagger, and to dazzle the inn- 
keeper’s eyes with a sight of gold, and continuing 
the same course all along the way, his journey was 
prolonged beyond his first intention. Finding the 
journey so pleasant, he slept at hostelries two 
nights on the way, and only on the third day arrived 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


156 

in Dublin. After refreshing himself and arranging 
his dress at an hotel he proceeded at once to the 
Castle, and after some delay he obtained an audience 
with the authorities and made his errand known. 
The reply to his application stunned him. 

We are sorry to say you are late, Mr O’Loghlin. 
Mr Ingoldesby of Ardcurragh has been before you 
in this matter, and is already registered as the legal 
owner of the O’Loghlin property.'’ 


XXI 

A FEW days later Hugh went to breakfast at 
Delville. 

'' Well ? said Mrs Delany. “ What has become 
of him ? 

'' I have shipped him off to France,” said Hugh. 

He made a shocking scene, cursed me for having 
robbed and ruined him, said he had written to his 
father to denounce me as a treacherous friend, more 
hateful than an open enemy, warned his sister and 
aunt that they were to be left without a roof over 
their heads, and that he himself was obliged to take 
refuge in Paris.” 

They will soon learn the truth,” said Mrs 
Delany. 

'' In time they will understand that I have made 
myself nominally owner of the property in order 
to hold it safely for Morogh OToghlin, the suspected 
and proscribed. But the lie will get a start of the 
truth. I cannot write to denounce the scapegrace 
son of his worthy father. The young rascal mis- 
157 


158 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


represented the real state of things, describing 
himself as having rushed to Dublin to try to hinder 
my unneighbourly act in taking advantage of the 
law.” 

'' He can certainly pose as an admirable person,” 
said Mrs Delany. '' Of that I have had some experi- 
ence. But at home they must know him.” 

I am not sure whether they would believe him 
capable of such thoroughly rascally and dastardly 
conduct,” said Hugh, thinking of Brona’s shame 
and grief for her brother’s vices. '' But at all 
events I must allow things to take their course for 
the moment. Truth will out, but it has a way of 
choosing its own hour.” 

'' Was the young man willing to go ? ” asked Mrs 
Delany. 

'' Pretending to be unwilling, but unable to hide 
his impatient eagerness to be off. Lamented his 
inability to move for want of means.” 

''You gave him money.” 

" Enough to start him in some kind of new life 
in Paris. I fear it will be spent on his pleasures, 
but further I cannot follow him.” 

" What are you going to do with yourself, Hugh ? 
You hinted sometime ago in a letter that you 
thought of a return to your old life of wandering.” 

" The truth is I am like a fish out of water in 
Ardcurragh. I am out of touch with the sympathies 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


159 


of those who interest me, and I have no inclination 
for the society of those who claim me as one of 
themselves. It is mere perverse humour that makes 
me wish to sit at the fire with Morogh O’Loghlin, 
and smoke and talk books with him, and that 
takes me to potter about the bog where the mysteri- 
ous Mass is said, rather than attend wine and card 
parties with my neighbours approved by the law.’' 

Mrs Delany looked a little troubled. She thought 
he avoided her eye while he spoke. 

'' I suppose,” he went on, '' I may be coming to 
a time of life when a man’s tastes change, or when 
experience gives his preconceived or educated views 
a shake, and he feels an interest in seeing further 
into things he has despised, and putting things he 
has sworn by on their trial.” 

'' It may be so. It is a phase I can imagine. 
Even the woman of thirty-five is often a more 
large-minded creature, though she may feel her 
wings clipped, than the girl who thinks she sees 
inimitably and feels her wings growing. I have 
always believed in liberality of judgment myself, 
and I am not sorry you should feel that change 
you describe, as an opening up of wider sympathies. 
But I hope you will cultivate the growth of new 
views anywhere rather than in the loneliness of 
Ardcurragh. You are too warm-blooded a man 
to live like a fish, in water or out of water as you 


i6o O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 

put it. As for haunting the Mass-bog and sitting 
at the fire with Morogh O’Loghlin, I have already 
warned you against both." 

" I think I have proved myself sufficiently 
prudent to require no warnings. I avoid Castle 
O’Loghlin and smoke in solitude. As for the bog — 
I confess the religion of these people fascinates me — 
I mean the idea of it. I no longer want to hunt and 
hang. I would let them pray their own way, and 
even hope that God may hear them. They have 
taught me to believe that there is really a God, 
seeing their ardent devotion and unshakable 
fidelity. The religion of common-sense as I have 
known it, as I find it still among legalised religionists, 
dwindles before it like a candle before the sun. It 
is the shadow of the substance." 

" I have heard men who have lived in the East 
speak in the same way of Buddhism, Moham- 
medanism." 

" No, no. Contrast their women with " 

" Brona O’Loghlin ? " said Mrs Delany. " Ah, 
Hugh, your prudence has not yet saved you. 
Don’t turn Papist even for such a woman. You 
could only injure yourself as well as her. Forgive 
my blunt ness. A minute ago I could not have 
believed that I should give you such a blow in 
the face." 

" I am not hurt. I love Brona. It harms no 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE i6i 

one that you should know it. But having 
said so much I have said everything, except 
that she has utterly rejected my appeal to be 
allowed to take her out of so sad a home and 
make her happy.” 

It has come to that ? ” 

“ Some time ago. Latterly I have not 
seen her. As to turning Papist, I am not a 
man to pretend to worship my Creator while 
conscious of nothing in my heart but worship 
of a woman.” 

“ No.” 

'' It is simply that I am unfortunate in this, being 
a man who loves only one woman in his lifetime. 
Only for the barrier of proscription she would be 
my wife. Seeing her living faith I have ceased to 
wish to force her to abjure it. The change has come 
to me in absence from her, in days and nights of 
thought. It seems there is nothing for us but the 
sadness of separation. God made us man and 
woman for each other, but the dissension of creeds 
has parted us.” 

I wish I had never asked her to come here ! ” 
said Mrs Delany impetuously. 

“ Don’t regret it, dear lady,” said Hugh, smiling. 

We should have met on the bog. My fate was 
drawing me to Ardcurragh, and that movement 
you had nothing to do with. My good aunt is the 

II 


i 62 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


only person to blame besides myself for bringing 
me to Ireland. How scared she would be if she 
could hear me say it ! But do not be uneasy about 
me. I am happier in loving Brona, even in 
separation, than I could have even been without 
knowing her.” 

'' You are a very strange man, Hugh,” said Mrs 
Delany. 

” Odd ? ” said Hugh. ” The world is full of 
odds and evens, and I suppose some of us are bound 
to take the odds.” 

” Well, go to the East and study Buddhism, and 
don’t frighten me with your admiration of Papistry. 
Liberality can go a little too far. You know I am 
a friend of Catholics, and always take their part. 
But the Dean ” 

” Is also liberal, but draws a line, and his line is 
yours.” 

A safe and reasonable line. I have always 
wished that you could hear him often at St 
Werbergh’s.” 

“ Before or after going to the East ? ” 

” Now you are ceasing to be serious and beginning 
to tease. I am afraid you are bent on going back 
to Ardcurragh.” 

” I shall probably feel in a few days that I 
must go back and explain my conduct to Morogh 
O’Loghlin.” 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


163 

Will not writing do ? *' 

'' A cold means where so much may depend on 
warmth of assurance. Next to crimes, misunder- 
standings are, to my mind, the very worst evils 
of life.” 


XXII 


There was some talk in the servants’ hall about 
Turlough’s sudden departure and prolonged absence; 
no notice given to his family, only a casual remark 
to Thady Quin that he was riding to Ardcurragh to 
spend the evening. 

That he may stay away ! ” said Thady Quin. 
'' He has the two eyes cried out of the Marquee’s 
head (and more’s the pity, for there’s no finer eyes 
in the world for their time of life), and Miss Brona 
wore as thin as a sally rod, and the masther starin’ 
at the wall over the edge of his book, right at the 
misthress’ picture (the light o’ heaven to her !) as 
if he was sayin’ to her, ‘ Why did you let the devil 
get a hoult of him, an’ you at hand so convenient 
to put in a good word for him in the ear of 
God ? ’ ” 

** I’ve heard there’s a black sheep turnin’ up in 
every old family some time or other,” said Mrs 
MacCurtin apologetically. 

Not in mine,” said Thady, '' as old as any of 

164 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


165 


them, the Quins of Quin Abbey that was called for 
them and for Quinchy, the arbutus tree. Father 
Aengus explained it to me. His own Order lived 
in it before it was wrecked an’ ruinated. What’s 
older than the trees, barrin’ the mountains ? ” 

Bother you and your family ! ” said Mrs 
MacCurtin. What do I ever say about the Mac- 
Curtins ? I’m as old as yourself any day, Thady 
Quin.” 

'' Faith then, ma’am, you haven’t the appearance 
of it,” said Thady gallantly. 

” Don’t try to be more of a fool than you look, 
my good man ! There’s the Marquise ringin’ for 
me ! Bother the bells in this house that’s all 
broke ! ” 

'' If they weren’t Catholic bells they’d be ringing,” 
said Thady. ” But if all the Marquees in Chris- 
tianity, beUs or no bells, were on the stairs, I will 
say. Honor MacCurtin, that anybody seein’ the pair 
of us this minute would give ye ten years younger 
by your looks than Thady Quin.” 

” I don’t think Mr Turlough will be at home for 
dinner,” said the Marquise as she gave her house- 
keeping orders for the day. ” Mr Ingoldesby 
usually keeps him for a week or two when he 
goes to Ardcurragh.” 

True for you, my lady,” said Mrs MacCurtin, 
and we needn’t be unneighbourly in refusin’ to 


i66 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


lend a loand of him. The best in the world can be 
done without, whiles ” 

'' He needs a change sometimes. Tis a dull life 
here for one accustomed to Paris,” said the Marquise 
with a lift of her chin. See that his bed is kept 
aired.” 

'' Oh, and that he may not be sleepin’ in the same 
bed for long enough to come ! ” muttered Honor 
MacCurtin to herself, as the lady turned away, 
holding her handsome white head unusually high 
for one who was ever genial and homely ” with 
the humblest of the retainers of the family. 

My lady, Mr MacDonogh’s in the library with 
the master,” said Thady meeting her in the hall. 

Aideen breathed a sigh of relief that was almost 
contentment. Turlough returning to his usual 
ways, and MacDonogh coming on the scene, were 
two good happenings after weeks of misery. The 
bluff, good-natured MacDonogh was always wel- 
come for his leal fidelity to the unfortunate, and 
for his optimistic cheerfulness which was like an 
invigorating breeze blowing the miasma out of 
stagnant places. A daring lawbreaker, and of a 
nature somewhat coarse in the grain, neither 
smuggling nor a plain-spoken word was a crime in 
his eyes, and those who had proved his worth were 
fain to take him at his own estimate, warming them- 
selves at the glow of his very human virtues. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


167 


Aideen finished her household business, and 
arranged her dress for lunch with the accustomed 
care of a French woman, and took her way to the 
morning-room. She paused in the doorway with a 
sudden sense of shock. The pleasant looks of 
welcome always accorded to MacDonogh were not 
to be seen. Her brother sat with his head drooped, 
his hands grasping the arms of his chair. Brona 
stood behind him, gazing at MacDonogh with an 
expression in her eyes of fixed denial of belief in 
what he was saying. MacDonogh stood erect on 
the hearth, one arm extended, denouncing something 
or some one, an angry frown on his good-natured 
countenance. 

Furlough again ! she thought, with a rush of 
impulse to defend him at any cost. 

Morogh and Brona took no notice of her entrance. 
MacDonogh bowed low over the hand she extended 
to him. 

“ This is a sad business, my lady. Ill luck to me 
to be the bearer of bad tidings.’' 

'' Is Furlough dead ? ” gasped Aideen. 

MacDonogh almost smiled at the question. It 
would not have pained him much to announce such a 
catastrophe as the removal of the graceless young man 
from the possibility of further tormenting his family. 

'' As far as I know, your nephew’s health is ex- 
cellent,” he said. 


i68 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


Tell me what is wrong/' said Aideen. '' What 
are your evil tidings ? " 

“ Evil enough, madam. It grieves me to tell of 
the treachery of one who has passed as the friend of 
this family. Ingoldesby of Ardcurragh has formally 
' discovered on ’ Morogh O’Loghlin as a proscribed 
and obstinate Catholic, persisting in Popish 
practices, encouraging Romish superstitions, and 
known to harbour a priest. And as a reward for 
his zeal he is now registered as the legal owner of 
the O'Loghlin property of Burren, as well as the 
Ingoldesby property of Ardcurragh." 

'' Impossible ! " said Aideen. '' He is a gentleman 
and has shown much sympathy." 

“ More scoundrel he ! " cried MacDonogh. " It 
is the talk of Dublin. The bribes offered by the 
Government are too big to be resisted. With two 
such properties he will be a magnate in the county. 
A title will probably be his reward." 

'' It has always been possible," said Aideen, 

but not even Stodart — and Ingoldesby of all men." 

'' Nothing so likely as the unexpected," said 
MacDonogh grimly. 

It has not happened. It is not true," said 
Brona firmly, the denial in her face growing more 
intense as she flatly contradicted the ill-omened 
messenger. 

'' If it were not true I should not be here with an 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


169 


alarming lie, my dear young lady. My anxiety 
has been to know what my friends intend to do, and 
to offer them any help in my power. Rumour says 
the robber intends throwing the two properties into 
one, rebuilding the Castle, and that he is promised 
an earldom for his services to the King.” 

“ Falsehood every word of it ! ” said Brona, 
leaning her elbows on the back of her father’s 
chair, her chin in her hands, and her eyes flashing 
indignation at MacDonogh. 

” That’s how he did it,” was MacDonogh’s 
thought, startled by the steeled expression of those 
tender eyes. '' Wormed himself into the family 
confidence and the girl’s affection, that he might 
learn all about their affairs and be able to 
sell the whole of them, root and branch — the 
ruffian ! ” 

Morogh had not spoken. ” Where is Furlough ? ” 
he said now, raising his bent head with an effort. 

'' Oh, he’s in Dublin, or was when I saw him. 
Said he followed Ingoldesby to try to stop him. 
He may be in Paris now for all I know. Ingoldesby 
was shipping him off with money in his pocket, 
to get rid of a likely row from his interference.” 

Here the door opened, and Thady announced 
himself with a little modest cough. 

'' It’s a word I have for the Marquee,” he said. 
** If it’s a thing that she’s expecting Mr Furlough, 


170 


O'LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


she needn’t. Myself met Judkin on the road, and 
he says his master went off to Dublin a week ago for 
the extinguishment of Papishes, and Mr Turlough 
hot foot after him, and neither of them has come 
back. I didn’t wait to hear more, for fear I would 
throttle the rascal for the grin he had.” 

'' Thank you, Thady. That will do,” said Morogh, 
and Thady retreated, standing outside in the hall 
and shaking his fist at the solid door, that had no 
chinks to enable him to learn something more of 
the misfortune that had fallen on the family. 

If this is true it must be borne,” said Morogh. 
“ We have lived in expectation of it. At the 
present moment all we have to do is to await more 
positive information. Some kind of official notice 
will be given to us. So far as we know,” he added 
with a faint smile, '' I am still, for to-day at least, 
O’Loghlin of Burren. Let us live accordingly, as 
if nothing had happened. Have you other business 
on hand, MacDonogh ? You did not come down 
to Clare merely to being us this news.” 

” Only the usual business of the Brigade,” said 
MacDonogh ruefuUy. ” I am sorry, O’Loghlin, to 
be the first to rush this on you.” 

'' No, my friend. You have prepared us for 
what may be to come. You will return to sup this 
evening. On your next visit we may not be able 
to offer you hospitality. You know the saying — 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


171 

' seize life’s glad moments when you can ’ — they are 
ever on the wing.” 

'' To-night or to-morrow,” said MacDonogh, and 
took his departure, downcast. 

Now, no tears, no repining ! ” said Morogh 
looking at his sister and daughter with calm eyes, 
” and leave me alone for a while to arrange this 
affair with God. Such an event does not arrive 
without His knowledge. If we are Christians and 
Catholics, we must be prepared to receive with 
welcome all that He sends.” 

“You are not natural, Morogh ! ” burst forth 
Aideen. 

Brona knelt and buried her face in her father’s 
shoulder for a moment. 

“ It’s impossible, father. Don’t believe it,” she 
whispered. “ Ingoldesby is our friend.” 

She kissed his hand and stood up. 

“ Come, Aideen ! ” she said ; and the Marquise, 
half-suffocated with suppressed wrath and grief, 
followed her from the room. 

They put their heads together over the wood 
fire in Aideen’s chamber. 

“ Is this revenge for your rejection of Ingoldesby 
as a lover ? ” asked Aideen. “ If you had con- 
formed and married him, it would have been a 
pleasanter way for him to attain his object, though 
not so direct or so rapid.” 


172 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


'' Hush, Aideen,’' said Brona. '' Whoever has 
done this thing it is not Hugh Ingoldesby. As 
well tell me that the hills of Burren have taken a 
walk to Killarney, and that this moment our sky 
is void of them.” 

'' Ah, you care for him ! You love the traitor. 
Be loyal to your father, Brona ! ” 

” Am I not loyal to him ? Shall I not travel 
the world with him ? ” said Brona. '' As for 
lovers, I have often told you that such are not for 
me. But I would be just. Can you not be loyal 
to anyone but Turlough ? ” 

” What has Turlough to do with it ? ” asked 
Aideen angrily. ” Why must he always be the 
scapegoat ? ” 

Then they were both silent, remembering Tur- 
lough ’s threat of some months ago. Brona believed 
that her father had been remembering it when he 
sat so silent. 

'' It were better that any stranger should do this 
thing than that a Catholic should forswear his 
religion to do it,” whispered Brona, ” even if he 
were not the son of the man he wronged.” 

Aideen groaned. In her heart she feared that it 
was Turlough who had done it. So did Brona. 

The two women could talk no more for their 
tears. 


XXIII 

Some time later came the official announcement to 
Morogh O'Loghlin of the confiscation of his property 
in the county of Clare, which had been transferred 
to Hugh Ingoldesby of Ardcurragh in that county. 
Almost at the same moment came Turlough’s letter, 
written on the eve of his sailing for France, denounc- 
ing Ingoldesby, and misrepresenting the circum- 
stances of his own departure from home. 

The letter was to Aideen. With all his callous- 
ness and audacity and his recklessness of truth, 
he had not the temerity to address a tissue of 
falsehood to his wronged father, whose strength of 
character inspired him with awe, while he despised 
his resignation and fortitude. He had gone (he 
said) to dine with Ingoldesby, and found him on the 
eve of starting for Dublin to discover on his Catholic 
neighbour, Morogh O’Loghlin. He had tried to 
dissuade him, but without avail. Ingoldesby had 
set out at daybreak on his journey, and Turlough, 
on finding him gone, had borrowed a horse from 
173 


174 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


Judkin to ride after him, to make another attempt 
to save the property. Before he could make any 
such attempt the deed was done. 

'' I had gained some money by cards,’’ he wrote, 
“ and I am getting away to Paris, where I must try 
to live by my wits as best I can. I don’t know what 
is to become of you and father and Brona. Per- 
haps the new master may allow you to remain as 
tenants at will, unless he wants to pull down the 
old house and build, when perhaps he would grant 
you a hovel somewhere. When I think of his 
prosperity and style, and his cool superiority, and 
my own miserable existence, I could poison him ! 
Perhaps you will forgive him, and dutifully accept 
him as your master since the law has given you to 
him ; even Brona who didn’t think enough of him 
to save us through his favour ! This is his revenge.” 

Turlough’s raving continued to much greater 
length. The truth of the gist of his communication 
might have been doubted but for the cold official 
document which accompanied and corresponded 
with it. 

There followed at Castle O’Loghlin a spell of the 
silent endurance of undeserved affliction, known to 
many souls who suffer this life in large degree as 
purgatory. To Morogh this deprivation of all his 
earthly possessions was as a call to the inner courts 
of spirituality, and invitation to closer union with 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


175 


his God. I will draw thee with the cords of love. 
These cords were cords of chastisement. With a 
severe countenance he set himself to consider what 
steps to take for the future of himself and his 
daughter, undaunted by the knowledge that in- 
digence and penury awaited them. 

Don’t be uneasy about me, father,” said Brona. 

If we must go to France, I can teach English in 
a convent school, and you and I can live happily 
together on a pittance. Aideen has her own little 
income. It will only be the pain of leaving the 
dear old place, the home, the hills, and the sea.” 

She did not venture to breathe her suspicion of 
the truth, that Furlough’s treachery somehow lay 
at the base of their misfortune. Though her faith 
in Ingoldesby’s honour and rectitude were akin to 
her trust in Providence, she was keenly aware that 
it was easier for Morogh to suffer from the avowed 
ill-will of a stranger than from a stab in the dark 
from his unworthy son. She spoke no more in 
defence of Hugh, even to Aideen whose occasional 
angry denunciations of the enemy sometimes seemed 
to her to cover the same unacknowledged suspicion 
as her own. And so the days went on, the cloud 
of suspense and uncertainty intensifying as no 
further intimation reached them of the intentions 
of the man who appeared to have so basely in- 
jured them. 


176 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


He will not come back to the country at 
present,” said Aideen, '' not till we are gone. He 
will be ashamed to look on the ruin he has made. 
Nor will he write. How could he find words to give 
a plausible reason for his conduct ? Probably the 
next thing we shall hear will be an official warning 
to get out of our premises before a certain date.” 

To all this Brona said nothing. She was praying 
for Turlough. Asking forgiveness and amendment 
for her brother, she offered thanksgiving for Hugh, 
the friend whom she felt sure he had calumniated. 
But of this no word could be said, neither to her 
father to increase his sorrow perhaps beyond his 
endurance, nor to Aideen, whose scared eyes be- 
trayed her fear of worse news to come, and her 
desperate determination to fight for one wrongdoer, 
no matter to what depths of degradation he might 
have sunk. The suspicion in the women’s minds 
was turned to certainty in a moment by a sudden 
outburst of the feelings of Thady Quin. The 
Marquise found him stamping his feet with passion 
in the garden. 

'' Sure flesh an’ blood can’t bear it, my lady ! 
Mrs MacCurtin says I’m to hold my tongue, an’ I 
can’t. Bad as he was I couldn’t ha’ believed it of 
Turlough — no more will I mister or master him. 
Hadn’t we him here like a bird in a nest, and all of 
us makin’ much of him ? ” 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


177 


Aideen stood pale and speechless. 

“I’m not lookin’ at you, my lady, for I couldn’t 
bear your eyes. I’ve spoke now, and on speakin’ 
I’ll go. It was Judkin that I met on the road 
ridin’ one of his master’s horses, an’ he stops and 
says he : 

“ ' Hello ! when are yez goin’ to clear out o’ 
yonder and let decent law-abidin’ people get their 
own ? My master’s your master now,’ says he ; an’ 
can sell the whole of ye root an’ branch, and a good 
riddance of Papishes out of the country ! And 
your own young rascal,’ says he, ' that wanted it 
for himself done out of it for all his tricks. And 
well it is, for one that would rob his own father 
and make a beggar of him is no good for honest 
Protestants to have to do with.’ 

“ ' What do you mean, you ruffian ? ’ says 1. 
* Mr Turlough tried to stop your master’s robberly 
grabbin ’.’ 

“ With that Judkin let a laugh and an oath that 
I couldn’t repeat to your ladyship, and then he 
let another [not so heavy — ^second-courselike, and 
says he : 

“ ‘ By King George, that’s a good one ! Didn’t 
he come beggin’ the best horse to take him to 
Dublin Castle to discover on his father for a Papish, 
an’ take the property for himself as an honest 

Protestant ? And not the first time he said it to 

12 


178 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


me, but the first my master heard of it. An’ didn’t 
Ingoldesby fill him with wine an’ put him to bed, 
and go off at break of day an’ take all for himself ? 
And better it is for yez all to be at the heel of 
Ingoldesby than at the mercy of yon Turlough ! ’ 
'' O good Lord, my lady, my blabbin’ tongue has 
killed you ! ” cried Thady, breaking his narrative 
short, and rushing to support the stricken lady, who, 
after a fit of trembling, recovered her presence of 
mind, and gave him her hand with a piteous move- 
ment, allowing him to lead her to the house. 

'' I told her the truth, bad manners to me ! ” 
he cried to Brona, “ and sure it had to be known, 
though it needn’t have come out so suddint ! ” 
Aideen had a headache that evening, and re- 
mained in her room. The truth, though hardly a 
surprise, had fallen on her as things silently known 
to the mind will strike at the heart when put into 
words and hurled unexpectedly from the unsparing 
tongue of another. It was agreed between her and 
Brona that nothing should be said to Morogh of this 
fresh sting added to the bitterness of the moment. 
He remained devoted to the effort of winding up his 
affairs, with a view to relinquishing the ownership 
of his house and lands as required by the mandate 
of the law. Only a week had elapsed since the blow 
had fallen, and to the family at Castle O’Loghlin it 
seemed to have been months in passing. 


XXIV 

Hugh was still detained in Dublin by formalities 
of the law, unwilling to write to Mprogh O’Loghlin, 
seeing the difficulty of explaining his own action 
without informing him of the evil behaviour of 
his son. To Mrs Delany’s entreaties that he would 
write a plain statement of his own act and inten- 
tions, and avoid the society of the O’Loghlins for 
some years to come, he persisted in replying that 
he felt urged and obliged to see Morogh and talk 
to him on the matter. The thought that they must 
meanwhile see him in the light of a treacherous 
friend was intolerable to him. When he said, 
they,’' Mrs Delany knew that he was thinking 
of Brona. 

** If you really want to benefit them, go away,” 
said the sensible woman. ” If you turn Papist 
or Brona marries you, remaining obstinate, you 
and they are all brought to ruin together.” 

'' Your woman’s imagination is at work now,” 
said Hugh. ” I am not likely to turn Papist, nor, 
179 


i8o 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


I grieve to say, is Brona likely to marry me. We 
are both as firm as the Burren Mountains.” 

'' I hope you will remain so, and with a view to 
that, I again advise you to make your visit short, 
and go to Burmah or Egypt to learn more about 
Eastern religions. They will be a safer study for 
you at present than the follies of Popery.” 

” That is a less liberal speech than I ever heard 
from you before,” said Hugh smiling. 

“ I want to save you, and I want to save Brona,” 
said Mrs Delany warmly. ” You are not the only 
person to find her a lovable creature. I can love 
without harming her.” 

” So can I,” said Hugh boldly. But Mary Delany 
shook her head. 

'' As soon as you are out of the British Isles,” she 
said, '' I will have her here again, and try to give 
her a little peace and pleasure.” 

” She will not leave her father. Less likely now 
than ever,” said Hugh. 

Then Morogh must come with her. The aunt 
will be bent on following Turlough to Paris.” 

** You speak as if I were going to turn them out,” 
said Hugh. 

Perhaps you may have to do so. Who can tell 
how all this is going to end ? ” 

” No, no,” said Hugh. I am seeing this matter 
solidly arranged. If I am owner of the O’Loghlin 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


i8i 


property I can do what I please with it. And I 
please to leave Morogh O’Loghlin as undisturbed in 
it as though I had no existence.” 

Then write and tell him so and depart to Egypt,” 
said Mrs Delany. 

I intend to go and tell him so, and afterwards 
to live where I may find it convenient to live,” 
said Hugh. 

'‘You had better give it up,” said Dr Delany 
when his wife complained to him. " As well try to 
turn the mill-stream by shaking a switch at it, as 
persuade Hugh Ingoldesby against his judgment.” 

" I want to save them both,” said Mary Delany. 

"You can't, my love, unless they want to save 
themselves. Every man has to dree his own weird, 
as the Scotch say, and every woman too. You 
have given good counsel, and have no further 
responsibility.” 

Meanwhile Hugh had received an audacious letter 
from Turlough in Paris, demanding more money. 

"You have robbed my father of everything,” he 
wrote, " and you are bound to make a provision for 
me, his heir. Please to let me have a remittance 
as soon as convenient to you.” 

Hugh threw the letter in the fire, and felt more 
than ever sure of the necessity for his visiting 
Clare, and of having a thorough understanding with 
Morogh O'Loghlin, let come what might. 


XXV 

Ingoldesby was met at the last stage of his ride 
home by Judkin with the news that Colonel 
Slaughterhouse had arrived at Ardcurragh. 

He’s anxious to congratulate you, sir. He 
didn’t know the whole story, though he got a 
sketch of it at Ennis, till I told him how you got 
up early and circumvented Turlough.” 

** The less talk about it the better,” said Hugh, 
and he felt that he did not want to be congratulated 
by Slaughterhouse on the covetousness of which 
he would think him guilty. 

He found the Colonel watching for him on the 
doorsteps, and was greeted by him with loud 
laughter and an unusually ardent grip of the 
hand. 

'' Well done, Ingoldesby 1 Did your trick 
cleverly when you kept me out of the business 
you were doing for yourself ! ” 

No,” said Ingoldesby. 

‘‘ What ? ” 


182 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


183 


''You know I acted by surprise — to prevent the 
ruin of my friend by another. I need hardly say 
I do not intend to take advantage of the law to 
disturb the O’Loghlins.’' 

" Hum. You tell me that ? Dangerous, isn’t 
it ? What are you going to do with the priest ? ” 

" Nothing.” 

"You leave all the nasty part of the affair to me ? 
Don’t you know that I can oblige you to act up to 
the spirit as well as the letter of the law ? ” 

" If you can I know you won’t,” said Ingoldesby, 
smiling. 

"You ought to take possession of your new pro- 
perty. Marry that charming Miss O’Loghlin, and 
let all keep house together.” 

" She would not accept me,” said Hugh, trying 
to speak lightly. 

" Then I shall try to persuade her, myself.” 

" She would not listen to you,” said Hugh. " She 
is a nun, and her father’s house is a convent to her. 

I intend that it shall remain so as long as it pleases 
her. For that purpose I have ventured to take 
an extreme step. I may be in her eyes a godless 
man, but I am not an inhuman monster.” 

"I’m afraid you would consider me as a monster 
if you knew all my views of this matter. I don’t 
urge you to marry the girl, because I have a fancy 
for her myself. The old man can be provided for 


184 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


in France, where all these rebelly gentry have 
plenty of friends. The rascal Turlough has been 
got rid of already, and his precious aunt is getting 
ready to follow him, lest a hair of his head should 
come to further grief. I don’t know that I can 
suggest anything more to help you to clear off the 
encumbrances on your property.” 

Ingoldesby’s eyes showed fire. 

” Look here. Slaughterhouse ! ” he said, ” your 
tone is flippant, but I believe you are at heart an 
honest and honourable soldier.” 

Slaughterhouse gave a short laugh. 

” At all events,” continued Hugh, ” I have 
placed these people safely out of your reach. The 
law is hard, but it is not always intentionally 
wicked in the way of working, and I intend to make 
just such uses as I please of the property it has 
unjustly awarded me.” 

” Take care,” said Slaughterhouse, ” or you may 
find yourself under suspicion, even you, some of 
these days, and of all things beware of connecting 
yourself with the priest.” 

” Don’t trouble about me,” said Hugh ; ” come 
in and have some lunch. Try to believe that you 
are not half as bad a fellow as you amuse yourself 
by pretending to be.” 

Later in the day Hugh went to Castle O’Loghlin, 
bent on the interview which he felt to be necessary 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


185 


for reassuring Morogh, and for the clearing of his 
own character in the eyes of all the family. Thady 
gave him black looks as he led him to his master’s 
library. 

“You have come to look on the ruin you have 
made,” said the old servant’s stern eyes as he threw 
open the door ; after closing which Thady stood 
outside in the attitude of listening, though he could 
hear nothing. 

“ If it was a thing that there would be a row,” 
he murmured, “ I would not like to be out of bearin’ 
of the first of it. The arms on me are strong yet, 
though Hugh Ingoldesby’s a sight younger than 
Thady Quin ; an’ if my blood was up I wouldn’t 
swear but I might punish him.” 

Morogh, writing at a table, turned his head when 
the visitor entered, and Hugh was struck by the 
change already made on him by sorrow and anxiety. 
But his dignity was equal to the occasion. 

“ How do you do, Mr Ingoldesby ? ” he said, 
rising and holding out his hand. 

Hugh took the hand reverently and bent over it. 

“You do not look on me as an enemy ? ” he 
said. 

“ No. Why should I ? ” said Morogh. “ You 
acted according to the law. I have persisted in 
living lawlessly, and have no one to blame for what 
has happened but myself.” 


i86 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


'' All honour to the man who bravely lives by 
his conscience, Mr O’Loghlin. I came, sir, not 
to apologise for my act, for my motive needs no 
apology. You will believe, I am sure, that the claim 
I have put on your property is a mere form, which 
will make no difference whatever to you or yours. 
An unjust and irrational law has made it easy for 
any non-Catholic to rob one of your religion, and 
without knowing it you have lived in immediate 
danger of dispossession. To avoid such a cata- 
strophe I have assumed the hateful attitude of a 
treacherous friend in order to ensure your safety. 
You will believe me.” Morogh looked at him 
piercingly. 

I will not ask you if you are in earnest in making 
this statement,” he said, I cannot disbelieve you, 
though I confess I am amazed. I have always lived 
on friendly if not intimate terms with my neighbours 
of the county. I have not known that anyone 
among them harboured a desire to injure me. By 
a little prudence I have escaped too much attention 
even from the emissaries of persecution. It has 
surprised me that such a calamity as being ruled 
out by the law should have been prepared to drop 
down on me, and that it should have so fallen.” 

Hugh was struck by something in the old man’s 
tone even more than his words, an undernote of 
inquiry — a suggestion of desire to know who the 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


187 


enemy might be whose plot had been defeated by 
the effort of a man now before him, whom the law 
had made his master. He had felt unsure of 
whether or not Morogh was aware of Furlough’s 
evil behaviour in the matter. Now, seeing that 
evidently the father knew nothing of the true source 
of his misfortune, he resolved that from him he 
should never hear of it. 

** We walk in the dark, all of us, Mr O’Loghlin,” 
he said. '' We are surrounded with the unknown 
and unguessed. Even in the full noonday light 
what we see is not always what we are looking at. 
All we can do is to help each other to the best of our 
ability — my intention towards you, — and to be 
charitably-minded towards others, which I trust is 
your own intention with regard to me.” 

'' I believe in you and I trust you,” said Morogh. 
"'An hour ago I could not have credited you with 
so much unselfish devotion to me and mine, who 
must appear mere abject outcasts in your eyes and 
in the eyes of your world. But I will ask you to 
believe me also when I say that at my age a man 
must take all blows as not from unkind fate, but 
from the hand of God, Who knows by what strokes 
He means to hammer us best into the shape in 
which He intends us to leave this world. It 
matters little to me after all where I may have to 
spend the last years of my probation before He calls 


i88 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


me into His presence. Nothing is of consequence 
except His countenance. St Francis says : ' What 
a man is in the Eye of God, that he is and 
no more.' " 

The listener was silent. For a moment Morogh 
seemed to have forgotten his presence. When the 
rapt look passed off his face (noted with a certain 
half-shame as if something sacred were intruded 
upon, by Hugh), he said gently : 

''You have others to care for. You have 
children, Mr O’Loghlin.” 

" They, too, have the hill to climb," said Morogh. 
" My daughter, who is my chief care, will always 
have harbour with her aunt, or failing that, in a 
convent. My son " 

Hugh held his breath. 

" My son had little prospect here. France suits 
him better. He has gone there, and I shall not 
allow him to misunderstand your benevolence in 
protecting us." 

" Well, sir," said Hugh, cheerfully, " I am glad 
you are assured that no changes are to be feared 
because of a formality which an unreasonable law 
has required. It is a law that may not always 
stand. In the meantime rest satisfied that Provi- 
dence does not mean to deal you the particular 
blow that was threatening you, and that you are 
to remain securely fixed in your home." 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 189 

Thank you ; I am indeed grateful, though I 
have not said enough of that/' 

The two men stood up and clasped hands ; and 
then Ingoldesby took his leave. He had hoped to 
catch a glimpse of Brona, but she was nowhere to 
be seen, and he went on, comforting himself with 
the reflection that she would soon learn the meaning 
of his conduct and believe in his determination to 
protect her father, even if she had not put a blind 
faith in him before. As he rode on he slacked his 
rein and let his thoughts drift back to the old man, 
Morogh, and his courage in adversity. Not alone 
courage, he admitted, but a something indefinable 
which defied ill-fortune and made capital out of 
destitution. 

Where do these Catholics get their strength to 
endure — and not alone that, but their absolute 
callousness to the slings and arrows of outrageous 
fortune ? How and why is it that what appears 
folly to me and crime to Slaughterhouse is to them 
illimitable wisdom ? The gate closed on them by 
the law opening on the other side to fields of 
Asphodel basking in the smile of God ! Had I been 
the treacherous friend condemned by the eyes of 
the old servant, who admitted me as if I were the 
ancient dragon, and he a powerless Michael the 
Archangel, if I were that traitor Brona would simply 
exchange her mountains and cliffs for the walls of 


190 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


a convent ; her prayers would go on ascending, 
and the name of Hugh Ingoldesby would not be 
forgotten in those prayers. She, in her youth, 
values this world as little as does her father in his 
advancing years. With her aunt’s friends and 
connections, and her own beauty, Paris would 
accept her as one of its queens, and yet she would 
rather scrub convent floors, or gather flowers to 
crown a statue of her heavenly Mother, than stoop 
to pick up the laurels that Parisian society would 
throw at her feet. Aye, and teach the little children 
to hate sin and bless Supreme Goodness in their 
Maker ! Why, I wonder, was I not born with this 
faith, that I might have lived with her, were it 
only in a garret ? Why, why, and why ? Life 
is one endless * why ’ to me. But these Catholics 
will have nothing of such questioning. To them 
all life is a path that, however tortuous, will one 
day, not very distant, end in God.” 

He shook off his thoughts with a shake of his 
rein, and reached his house feeling for the moment 
like his usual self, and pleased with his morning’s 
work for many reasons, one of which was that the 
result of it would certainly make for his own future 
peace of mind. 


XXVI 


Hugh now tried to settle down to some kind of 
practical living at Ardcurragh. He must find 
occupation and make his existence of use to his 
fellow-creatures ; feeling sure that his presence as 
well as his name was necessary for the continued 
protection of Morogh, he resolved to stay in his own 
place, keeping watch. Slaughterhouse was not by 
nature altogether cruel, but bribes were large and 
temptation was strong, and the men under his leader- 
ship were not always manageable. On the morning 
after his visit to Morogh OXoghlin, he set his mind 
to consider how best he might spend his time. A 
ride over his property, with eyes open to facts, 
showed him that a good deal could be done to 
improve the condition of the most wretched of the 
poor. Hovels could be made more habitable, 
land more productive, industry encouraged, and 
the materials for it provided or sought for. Judkin 
totally disagreed with him on these points. 

'' What have you got to do with them, sir, but 


192 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


to let the heathens die there ? It’s what the law 
and the King lays down for them. You’re In- 
goldesby of Ardcurragh, but you can’t be counted 
better than the law and the King. Everything 
done to help them is flyin’ in the face of civilisation 
and the Bible.” 

Ingoldesby laughed. 

” How much of the much-maligned Bible did 
you ever know, Judkin ? ” 

” I learned my taxes when I was at school, 
sir, and I got a prize for them, and I know a lot 
of them yet.” 

"'For instance.” 

” You take me up a little short, sir.” Judkin 
cleared his throat, coughed, and ransacked his 
memory. 

” Here it is, sir ! ‘ That their lands might be given 
up to desolation and to perpetual hissing : as a 
burning wind will I scatter them before the enemy.’ ” 

” Jeremias ! ” said Ingoldesby. 

“ Who was he, sir ? I don’t remember much 
about him, only the name, but I know he was 
cursed for a heathen idolater.” 

'' I’ll buy you a new Bible, Judkin, if you will 
read a little more of it.” 

'' Well, sir. I’m not a man for books, and I didn’t 
know you were a gentleman to hold much by that 
one.” 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


193 


'' I hold by knowing something of what I talk 
about,” said Ingoldesby, wincing at his own 
words ; for were they true ? 

Ingoldesby proceeded with his investigations 
and his plans, and Judkin wondered whether he 
ought not to give notice to the authorities that his 
master was either going mad or turning traitor. 
But innate fidelity restrained and kept him steady. 
To Slaughterhouse he would have sworn that the 
owner of Ardcurragh was as big a persecutor for 
the King’s sake (if he had the opportunity) as any 
in the country. And the curious obverse of the 
situation was that the people who were getting a 
chance of benefit, distrusted the hand extended to 
them as the hand of the man who had discovered 
on and grabbed from the O’Loghlin. 

As the spring days lengthened Hugh thus made 
occupation for them abroad, and also found it 
at home. A much-neglected library engaged his 
attention. The books that were there and the books 
that were not there caused him to wonder. He was 
aware that his forefathers had not been bookish 
people, and it was with some pleasure that he set 
about supplying wants and filling gaps, making out 
lists to be sent to booksellers and publishers. In 
the midst of this work he was interrupted one 
morning by an intimation that the winter rain had 
come through the roof to the ceiling of part of the 

13 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


194 

Si. -i i 

attic story of the house, and that probably slates 
were off, but that he had better come up and see. 
He went and he saw. There was a slight drip in 
the highest passage, and he gave orders at once for 
workmen to be summoned from Ennis to make 
the necessary repairs. And then a few words were 
said by one of the servants, such words as, utterly 
common-sounding in themselves, are destined to 
become as keynotes of a new strange music in a 
soul. 

The worst spot of all is in the Papist’s room, sir.” 

'' Where is the Papist’s room ? ” asked Hugh, 
surprised. 

Oh, sir, the Papist lady that was shut up there 
long ago,” said the old housekeeper, who had been 
in the house as caretaker for many years. 

“ I never heard of her,” said Hugh. 

“ I suppose not, sir. Miss Ingoldesby wouldn’t 
think of telling it to you. But she bid me leave the 
room just as it was, for a curiosity. Nothing in it 
was worth making use of in any other part of the 
house, sir.” 

Who was the lady, and how did she come to 
be here ? ” asked Hugh. 

She was a friend of your good mother in her 
young days, sir ; that was in England, and she 
went into one of their convents there and was a 
nun. And when the Papists were hunted and the 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


195 


nuns turned out, the lady was given a hiding-place 
here by your father and mother, who were then 
young married people and were sorry for the 
unfortunate.” 

What became of her afterwards ? ” asked 
Hugh. 

” She got away to France, and I believe she lived 
the rest of her life in one of their convents. The 
times were even harder on Papists then than they 
are now.” 

'' Let me see the room,” said Ingoldesby. 

The housekeeper led the way down a narrow 
passage, and threw open a door at the end of it, 
and Hugh went in. It was a small room under 
the eaves, an attic room, sparely furnished like the 
cell of a nun. 

” Your good mother had a great pity for her, sir, 
and she never disturbed anything she left here. 
Papist or not, for she said there’s no harm in any- 
body’s prayers, and that poor creature sure enough 
was always praying.” 

Hugh was strangely affected by the story, also by 
the knowledge that its happening had been in his 
house, and that he had never heard of it. Stranger 
still was the faint stirring of memory, suggesting 
now that in his childhood he had caught some 
whisper of the tale. His mother evidently had not 
cherished the absolute hatred of Papistry which 


196 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


perhaps was due in himself to the early instruction 
of Miss Jacquetta Ingoldesby. 

It is very interesting/’ he said to the old house- 
keeper, and dismissed her. But he lingered some 
time longer in the room, examining everything 
that was to be found in it. If he had never known 
Brona there would have been little charm for him 
in such a place, but the aspect of the room and the 
character of the woman who had lived in it forced 
him to think of one he knew who was her sister in 
faith. He imagined that in such a room and with 
such surroundings Brona was living and praying in 
Castle O’Loghlin, and he felt a rush of heart warmth 
towards his dead mother for her charity in harbour- 
ing the hunted soul whose only crime was her 
“ praying,” her invincible fidelity to her own 
conception of God and of what He required of her. 
A small bedstead, a desk-table, a chair, and a few 
shelves were all the furniture of this cell of the spirit 
of an anchorite. On the highest shelf, pushed far 
back out of sight against the wall, he found a 
few books in worn leather bindings, two in Latin, 
the other in French ; and the books being much in 
his mind at the moment, he gathered them up and 
took them with him to the library. 

“ How did she happen to forget her books ? ” 
he thought as he wiped the dust off them and opened 
them. '' They may now prove an interesting 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 197 

addition to my store as samples of old Catholic 
literature.” 

The first he examined was a book in two small 
volumes, the text crude and old-fashioned, the 
pages stiff and yellow. The title was The Living 
Flame of Love, and the author was St John of the 
Cross. Neither the author nor his book had ever 
been heard of by Ingoldesby. Who was the man ? 
A note deciphered with difficulty told that he was 
a Spanish Carmelite priest, a laborious server of 
God who lived in the sixteenth century. What 
had he to say ? 

“The Living Flame of Love” was the title 
of a poem of only four stanzas, read eagerly 
now by Hugh, so attractive were the mystical 
words to him who knew nothing of any love 
that was not merely natural to the human 
heart of man. 

O Living Flame of Love 
That woundest tenderly 
My soul in its inmost depth ! 

As Thou art no longer grievous 
Perfect Thy work, if it be Thy will. 

Break the web of this sweet encounter. 

Hugh was startled. Was not this the human 
love of which he himself had knowledge ? What 
had the old sixteenth-century priest to do with it ? 
He read and re-read, Thou art no longer grievous J* 


198 O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 

That were sweet indeed if one could take it as one’s 
own experience. 

After some pondering he passed to the second 
stanza. 

O sweet burn ! 

O delicious wound ! 

O tender hand ! O gentle touch ! 

Savouring of everlasting life. 

And paying the whole debt. 

By slaying Thou hast changed death into life. 

“ Everlasting life ! Death into life ! ” Then 
it was the love-song of a Catholic to his God and 
Redeemer ! Further : 

O lamps of fire 

In the splendour of which 

The deep caverns of sense, 

Dim and dark, 

With unwonted brightness. 

Give light and warmth together to their Beloved. 

How gently and how lovingly 
Thou wakest in my bosom, 

Where alone Thou secretly dwellest ; 

And in Thy sweet breathing 
Full of grace and glory, 

How tenderly Thou fillest me with Thy love. 

Ingoldesby put his finger in the book to mark 
the place, and sat staring at nothing, or rather at 
something he could not see. This raving mysticism 
— what did it mean ? Did this strange song give 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


199 


the key to the enigma of the Catholic’s indifference 
to material goods of this world, his absorption in 
things to come in the life eternal ? Was this the 
love that held Brona in bondage, which neither law 
nor loss could break, of which human love could 
not ease the durance, not effect the ransom. The 
words 

As Thou art no longer grievous 
recalled Morogh’s saying that the pains and injuries 
and losses of life no longer troubled him. He was 
travelling fast towards the great Elsewhere, in 
which abode that mighty all-sufficient Love of the 
enraptured saint and poet. 

Reading further into the book he found that it 
was all written in explanation of this curious 
mystical song of the bond between earth and 
heaven, time and eternity, the created heart of man 
and the Being creating it. For some hours he 
continued this novel and strange study, more and 
more amazed and enthralled by the fervour of the 
writer of the little brown book, and his incredible 
realisation of spiritual things beyond the ken of 
thoughtless man. 

Examining the other volumes he found the name 
of St Thomas Aquinas and St Augustine on the 
title-page. From one to another he turned, reading 
a little, and assured that he must read the whole. 
So the night passed like one hour, and seeing the 


200 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


spring dawn looking in at the window he put the 
books aside and threw open the sash to gaze at the 
waking earth and the opening heavens, with a vague 
unacknowledged feeling that some kind of a spiritual 
light was at the dawn in his soul. A breeze lifted 
his hair and stirred the tree-tops. At the same 
moment a few clear notes of the mysterious bell 
hid in the wood came on the wind and swung across 
his ear. Was it a warning or a summons ? It 
sounded like an echo of the eon, 

O living flame of love. 

He shook off his fancies and tried to call himself 
a fool for dwelling on the dreams of a possible 
madman. But the words of the poet, as they came 
back again and again, were all too wise and sweet 
to savour of anything but sanity. 


XXVII 

Morogh’s interview with the supposed grabber of 
the property had brought relief to troubled souls 
at Castle O’Loghlin. Morogh was unutterably 
thankful that his son was innocent of the evil 
threatened by him in his sullen mood, and that 
heaven had sent a protector from enemies unknown 
and unexpected. The others of the household who 
knew exactly all that had happened were glad of 
Ingoldesby’s silence as to Turlough, which left the 
father in ignorance of the ingrate's guilt. There 
was also for all the return of peace occasioned by 
the absence of the restless spirit whose angry 
discontent had embittered their days, and for 
Brona there was over and above a secret joy in the 
fact that her undoubting trust in the good faith 
of Ingoldesby had been justified, and that the 
disinterested generosity of his conduct had been 
made evident to all. Before many days this peace 
was broken for Aideen by her intense desire to know 


201 


202 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


what had become of Turlough, and she resolved 
to follow him to Paris. 

'' I know where to look for him,” she said, ” and 
I will save him from destruction.” 

No one tried to prevent her. Brona knew that 
if anyone could save her brother it would be Aideen, 
who could give him a little money along with her 
good advice. And Morogh said : 

” God bless your motherly solicitude, my sister. 
Now that he is free from a haunting temptation it 
may be possible for you to influence him.” 

“Yes,” said Aideen cheerfully, ignoring her 
better knowledge ; and she went on her lonely 
journey with all a mother’s forlorn hopes and cruel 
fears pent in her adoring heart. 

She had not been long gone when MacDonogh 
came again to Castle O’Loghlin, returning from his 
recruiting visitation of the county. He arrived 
one morning, blowing wrath from his nostrils, and 
strode into the library where Morogh sat reading. 

• “ So we wronged a good neighbour,” he said, 
“ instead of putting the saddle on the right horse ! 
I always suspected the rascal. We may thank 
heaven that Ingoldesby’s wine put him under the 
table, and that Ingoldesby’s horse did not let the 
grass grow under his feet till he landed his master 
in Dublin Castle yard.” 

Morogh’s face had turned white. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


203 


** What do you mean, MacDonogh ? ” he asked. 

** Mean ? Do you think that if Turlough had 
had his will you or I would be sitting here this 
morning. You would have had a Protestant 
O’Loghlin hunting the Papists out of his house, 
and handing over the priest to be shot at the altar. 
That’s what.” 

'' Cease hinting, and tell me the truth of what 
happened,” said Morogh, controlling his trembling 
voice and limbs. 

'' I thought you knew all the particulars,” said 
MacDonogh ; ‘‘ would be the first to hear them. 
You expected it long ago. Long threatening came 
at last. But do you tell me that Ingoldesby took 
the action on himself ? Oh, good Lord, Morogh, 
have I hurt you ? How could I ” 

Morogh had risen up, staggered, and fell forward. 

MacDonogh stretched him on the floor, and ran 
to the door shouting for Thady. 

'' Oh, then the troubles has murdered him at 
last ! ” cried Thady in tears, and big MacDonogh 
sobbed like a baby as they hung over the old man, 
applying restoratives. The worst was feared, but 
after some time Morogh recovered from what 
proved to have been a dangerous fainting fit, and 
was carried to bed, where Brona and Father 
Aengus watched beside bim. The doctor from 
Ennis, who knew the story of the '' discovery ” 


204 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


and the cause of the illness, was sympathetic with 
Brona. 

“ The heart is weak,” he said, and you must 
try to save him from anxieties and shocks. He will 
recover from this attack, but you will have him in a 
weaker state of health. Let him not leave this 
room till the season is rhore advanced and the 
weather milder, and cheer and amuse him as much 
as possible.” 

Brona needed no urging to careful nursing. 
While her father’s life was in danger, all other fears 
and sorrows seemed to grow shadowy and unreal. 
And of earthly comfort there was none except the 
genuineness of the friendship of Ingoldesby. There 
was a little satisfaction in the absence of Aideen, 
and the feeling that if anything could be done to 
save Turlough from himself, Aideen was on the spot, 
and was the person to do it. 

As days went on Morogh gained a little return 
of strength, and became more like himself. Once 
he spoke of Turlough, and then mentioned him 
no more. 

‘‘ We must forgive him,” he said, ** and leave him 
to God and to Aideen. You and I can do nothing.” 

Brona felt with a chill dread that the patient 
was turning his face more and more away from this 
world, and directing it towards the mysterious East 
where the sun of his hope was rising. Father 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


205 


Aengus spent many an hour alone with him, while 
the girl took some rest or breathed the open air, 
hours in which no one might hear the conversation 
that passed except God and the angels in waiting. 
Ingoldesby learned of the illness of O’Loghlin from 
MacDonogh, who stopped him on the road to pour 
out his thanks for the protection given to O’Loghlin, 
to confess his own mistaken judgment, and to 
denounce his rashness in rushing a bitter truth on 
the man who had been saved from such knowledge 
by his own household. 

I must go back to France now,'’ he said, '' and 
my only consolation in leaving these afflicted 
friends is that you have taken them under your 
protection.” 

May I come to see Mr O’Loghlin ? Is he 
permitted a visitor ? ” asked Hugh. 

'' I believe he will be glad to see you,” said 
MacDonogh. He has absolute trust in you.” 

Hugh had many reasons for accepting the invita- 
tion to visit the house as a friend. He wanted to 
see Brona. It seemed a lifetime since he had looked 
on her face or heard her voice. Not since the 
evening when he fled in disgust from the presence 
of the friar who had talked to him like a madman 
on the moor, had he approached her. He had after 
that sought the society of sensible persons, and tried 
to forget the follies of Papists and the fatal bewitch- 


2o6 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


ment of the woman he loved. He had persuaded 
himself that he cared for her no more, and that he 
wished her to forget him. Since then he had mixed 
in the society of people of common-sense, talked 
with the worldly wise, and listened to condemnation 
by good men and women of the extravagances of 
Popish idolatry. Yet he had not found entire 
satisfaction in the hearing of it. He had set himself 
to admire charming girls, whose natural gaiety of 
heart was not overcast by too much thoughtfulness 
or by supernatural dreams, and still his mind had 
persisted in swinging back to Brona as the one 
woman to be revered and adored by him, despite 
her provoking conscientious obstinacy. Then, 
when he still held long absence as the one plank to 
save him and her from disaster, had come the evil 
movement of Turlough to throw him into her life 
again by obliging him to act as her champion. He 
wanted to see her now if only to assure her of his 
unabated friendship, to know from her that she 
beheved in his worthiness of trust, and to see with 
his own eyes how she had borne the heavy blows 
that must have tortured her heart. There had 
also been in his mind for some days past a latent 
desire to tell her of his discovery of the little brown 
books in the Papist’s room at Ardcurragh, to know 
if she was familiar with such books, and to hear 
her opinion of them. With a feeling that fate, or 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


207 


whatever else men may call the inevitable force that 
drives them into grooves or leads them by strange 
paths where it will, was again fingering his bridle- 
rein, he rode to pay yet one more visit to Castle 
O’Loghlin. 


XXVIII 

Hugh was shown into the library. The place had 
a deserted look ; Morogh’s chair empty, books all 
in their places, no litter about, the writing-table 
pushed aside as if no longer in use. 

'' The master does be always in his own room now, 
sir,” said Thady, deferential and communicative to 
mark the change in his feelings towards Ingoldesby, 
who on his last appearance had been received as a 
traitor, but was now to be accepted as a friend. 

'' And Miss Brona does be always with him there, 
and the Marquee has gone to France. But I will 
tell Miss O’Loghlin that you are here, sir.” 

What would he say if he knew the priest was 
with the master this blessed minute ? ” said Thady 
as he went up the stairs. '' Friend and all as they 
say he is, sure don’t I know the whole of us is in 
Ingoldesby ’s power ? To keep us where we are 
or to throw us out of the windows as the humour 
takes him ! ” 

Brona met him with a simple and friendly 
208 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


209 


welcome. There was no embarrassment in her 
manner to remind him of other meetings and part- 
ings. She had put all that out of mind among the 
dead things that have no resurrection. The value 
of this man’s loyalty to her father was all that she 
allowed herself to realise concerning him, when she 
gave him her hand and frankly thanked him for 
coming to a house of sorrow and sickness. 

'' I wanted to hear from your own lips that you 
have understood my action, and to get your promise 
that you will always trust me,” said Hugh. 

” We trust you. If proof of your friendship 
were needed, you gave it by your screening my 
unhappy brother to save my father the worst of the 
blow. He knows all now,” said Brona. 

” Is he willing to see me ? If not I will come 
again,” said Hugh, almost hoping that he might 
spend all the hour of his visit alone with Brona. 

” Father Aengus is with him,” she said. ” I tell 
you frankly because I trust you for him, as for 
ourselves.” 

” As this is now supposed to be my house he is 
safe within its walls, though outside of them I have 
no more power to protect him,” said Hugh. ” I 
would wish to warn him of this. I was rude to him 
a few months ago when I met him on the moor.” 

” He will not remember it, nor will it be of any 
use to warn him. Father Aengus takes heed of 

14 


210 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


neither insults nor injuries, nor of warnings. He 
will go on doing his duty till God has no more work 
for him to do.'' 

Hugh drew a book from his pocket. 

'' This," he said, " I found in a room in my house 
which I hear has been known as the Papist's 
room." 

'' I have heard of the room and its story," said 
Brona. 

This book contains a poem which I have been 
poring over ever since I found it. I want you to 
explain its meaning to me." 

" St John of the Cross ! " cried Brona in surprise. 

" Do you know him ? Here are two closely- 
printed books in one volume. Their titles have 
affected me strangely : The Dark Night of the Soul, 
and The Living Flame of Love. I want to know 
more about them. You can tell me." 

'' What can I tell you of a Saint and his teaching 
and his experiences ? If you have read his works 
and they have told you nothing, how can I hope to 
explain them ? " said Brona. 

" You know the poems ? " 

Yes." 

" Do you understand them ? " 

" They are not difficult to understand for one 
who believes in a supremely loving and lovable 
God. Our approach to Him may be through a 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


2II 


dark and dreadful night — when we reach Him He 
is the Living Flame of Love." 

'' I have gathered that in this is the pith of the 
Catholics' faith," said Hugh. 

A light flashed on him from Brona’s eyes. 

'' Don't mistake me," Hugh hastened to say. 
''You must not suppose that my interest in what 
I have read has been more than an intellectual 
apprehension of the workings of a very beautiful 
mind. But I am rid of my suspicion of idolatry — 
for which I ask forgiveness of your tolerance and 
patience." 

" I knew you were suffering from ignorance," 
said Brona, " and for all who suffer we are bound to 
have compassion." 

" I must tell you how these poems affected me," 
said Hugh. '' First I was caught in the Living Flame 
— a sudden flash of light dazzled me. But it soon 
went out ; and I turned to the Dark Night, which 
seemed more symbolic of my rayless state. ' If I 
have a soul it is truly existing in darkness,' I thought. 

In a dark night 

With anxious love inflamed 

O happy lot ! 

Forth unobserved I went. 

My house being now at rest. 

This, with the exception of the one line ' O happy 
lot ! ' seemed to be for me. Going further in the 


212 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


strange poem, I was soon lost in its mysticism. 
Yet here and there were words that applied to me 
forcibly. I could not resist their fascination. I 
altered and substituted words for myself. For 
* In that happy night ' I read, 

In that lonely night 
In secret seen of none. 

Seeing naught myself. 

Without other light or guide 

Save that which in my heart was burning. 

'' What it means I know not, but something of a 
strange light has been burning in my heart ever 
since. I return to the poem again and again, 
uncertain whether to take John of the Cross as a 
mystic poet, or as one inspired — what you call a 
saint.” 

” I have no such uncertainty,” said Brona 
smiling, ” but that does not affect you. I can only 
advise you to read further and ponder more 
deeply.” 

I want help. Another mind to show me the 
way and to point out meanings that I fail to see.” 

” You have only to read the poems,” said Brona. 
'' The books were written to explain their mean- 
ing. If you need more light upon them Father 
Aengus ” 

Hugh shrank from the thought of seeking aid 
from the priest he had scorned. Brona saw it. 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


213 


I will not urge you into danger/’ she said. 
'' This fancy of yours may not be more than just a 
fancy. You may have already endangered yourself 
by your sympathy with us. Even these books 
in your house, in your hands, may do you harm. 
Leave them with me. I will keep them in a safe 
place — with other books of the kind in the priest’s 
cell.” 

No,” said Hugh, I will keep them and study 
them as you bid me.” 

And then the door opened, and Thady announced 
that the master was ready to receive Mr Ingoldesby. 
Hugh returned the book to his pocket, and they 
went together to Morogh’s room. 


XXIX 

Hugh was gone, and Brona was in her room on her 
knees before the crucifix. '' 0 happy lot ! ’’ These 
were the words of the stanza of the poem of the 
Dark Night that Hugh was not able to take as 
appl5fing to himself. Was he yet to read the riddle ? 
Might he not discover what was meant by that 
happy lot, and make it his own ? He was a resolute 
man, and if he found that he was called to the faith 
of the proscribed, he would walk to meet his worldly 
ruin. Such ruin would, of course, include that of 
Morogh O’Loghlin, but her father’s tent was 
already pitched in heaven, and she herself was of 
no account, except in as far as she could minister 
to the needs and the comfort of his remaining years. 
God would provide a harbour for them. But Hugh 
Ingoldesby, the young man with his life to live, 
the friend wha had protected them, was he to lose 
everything in the world through his generous 
sympathy with the oppressed ? 

If he had never met her, he would have gone on 
214 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


215 


conscientiously disbelieving in the creed condemned 
by his church (if he had a church), by what he 
called common-sense, and by the State. He was 
not accountable for invincible ignorance. And, 
now, might not his irresponsible attitude change to 
one of unbelief no longer irresponsible ? A mere 
doubt, while effecting his worldly overthrow, might 
fail to bring him actual conviction of the truth of 
the faith that was so difficult to him ? Thus she 
would have on one side ruined him, and on the other 
only brought him into danger. 

Tortured by these thoughts, Brona felt that the 
cup of her sorrow was indeed filled to the brim. 
The peace and sweetness preached by the Saint of 
the Cross, out of his own experience, was far from 
her. At the moment the Living Flame seemed to 
give her no light, and the shadows of the dark night 
were upon her. Memory brought to her mind 
familiar words of the Saint, of which she had tried to 
make a motto for her life. 

My soul is detached 
From everything created, 

And raised above itself 
Into a life delicious. 

Of God alone supported. 

And therefore I will say. 

That what I most esteem 

Is that my soul is now 

Without support, and with support. 


2i6 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


All that had been done in her soul seemed now 
undone. Could she say, 

God alone and I 

God alone in my spirit to enlighten it, 

God alone in my acts to sanctify them, 

God alone in my heart to possess it ? 

Turning over the pages of the book, looking for 
some help, she fastened on the Saint’s explanation 
of the words, In darkness and concealment,” a 
line in one of the poems which had fascinated Hugh, 
and she tried to apply the lesson to her own heart 
in the silent suffering which her tongue could confide 
to no one. 

“ When God visits the soul Himself the words of 
the stanza are then true, for in perfect darkness, 
hidden from the enemy, it receives at such times 
the spiritual graces of God. ... A work wrought 
in the dark, in the hiding-place, wherein the soul 
is confirmed more and more by love ; and therefore 
the soul sings 

In darkness and concealment.” 

Had the promised grace been now denied her, so 
that her faith seemed gone ? And had she in 
darkness and concealment been only working the 
undoing of the man who loved her ? She had 
prayed for him, and was his uncertainty of mind 
the answer to her prayers ? Was she now doubting 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


217 


God Who had heard her prayers, as though He 
were some malign spirit hearing them awry and 
answering them with cruelty ? In the anguish of 
this temptation she wept tears, prostrate with her 
face to the earth. 

All that day and night she prayed. Ought she 
to urge this man to talk to Father Aengus ? Might 
not the saintly spirit of the Father rush on too fast 
to a conclusion and hurry the soul, dazed with new 
light, over a precipice unperceived by counsellor 
and counselled ? A mere fascinating doubt, an 
imperfect effort at faith, ending in harder unbelief, 
was after all the worst thing her imagination 
dreaded. Would Father Aengus, wrapped in his 
own light, see nothing of this danger of darkness ? 
After a hard struggle, she felt impelled to go to 
Father Aengus in his cell and put the case of Hugh, 
as she saw it, before him. A smile lit the friar’s 
pallid face when she confessed her dread of his too- 
urgent zeal for the cause of his Divine Master. 

'' Have no fear, my child,” he said. '' Neither 
you nor I must press this soul. We will pray, and 
leave the answer to the judgment of God, to Whom 
every soul is known with its needs. Who knows His 
own requirements of each, and His designs for it as 
we could never guess them. God will send this man 
to me if it be good for him to come to me. He must 
seek me of his own impulse, being divinely impelled.” 


2i8 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


Then the terror left Brona, and her prayers were 
once more sweet with the confidence that had been 
her joy during many months of the past, when Hugh 
appeared to have forgotten her, making himself 
happy with other friends, and when she had believed 
herself separated from him for ever, except by 
spiritual links of the forging of God which neither 
time nor distance would ever have power to weaken. 
Her face was bright, and her voice and words sweet, 
as she came and went in her father’s sick-room. She 
found him serenely at peace, thanking God for 
Ingoldesby’s protection, and making no complaint 
of the blow dealt him by his unworthy son, the 
knowledge of whose heartlessness was draining the 
life from his own heart. Turlough’s name was not 
mentioned between them, though a letter from 
Aideen passed from one to the other, in which she 
told of her efforts to find her nephew and of the 
success which had brought her little comforts 


XXX 

As the summer approached and advanced, In- 
goldesby continued in the way of life he had marked 
out for himself, busy with improvements on his 
estate, such as required long rides and the thinking 
out of plans, with the interviewing of experienced 
workers necessary for the realising of his own 
tentative ideas. A visit to Castle O’Loghlin often 
filled the afternoon. Morogh was now able to 
come down to the library, and sat in his old chair 
by his writing-table at the window overlooking 
the sea, appearing not so much like the shadow of 
himself as like the spirit within him made more 
visible by the wasting of its material wrappings. 
Brona was always found near him, to read or to 
talk as he might desire. Hugh never saw her alone, 
and he had no opportunity of making further 
confidences to her. This was as Brona's resolution 
had arranged it. Her fear of injuring him was 
stronger than her desire to know the working of 
his mind on certain subjects of which he had given 
219 


220 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


her a hint, and which might end either in his 
triumph or his undoing. 

She longed to know whether the old books found 
concealed in the high room of his house had been 
thrown aside as full of incomprehensible extrava- 
gances, or had maintained their fascination, and 
led him on by the new light that had shone on him 
momentarily. Had the light come again, or had 
it gone out and left him in a deeper darkness ? 
He talked cheerfully to her father about his doings 
on his lands, in a manner that caught the old man’s 
attention, and suggested new interests in life were 
it only for an hour. She herself was all alive to 
these doings of Ingoldesby, both for his own sake 
and for the poor who had her most tender compas- 
sion. Religion was never touched upon lest dif- 
ference of views should lead to dissension, marring 
to peace and to that harmony so necessary to 
Christian charity. 

Brona planned her walks at hours when she knew 
that Hugh’s self-appointed duties had taken him 
far from home in a quite opposite direction from 
the paths she selected for her own rambles. One 
morning when she believed him to be at least five 
miles away, she saw a figure on horseback coming 
towards her over the brow of a hill, and for a moment 
thought it might be Hugh. Coming nearer, how- 
ever, the rider sprang from his horse, and she 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


221 


perceived that it was Colonel Slaughterhouse who 
was walking to meet her. He threw his reins to 
the servant who followed him, and bade him take 
the horses to Ardcurragh, as he intended to see 
Miss O’Loghlin safely back to Castle O’Loghlin. 
Brona shrank from his greetings, but quickly took 
pains to conceal her dislike of this man whom she 
had last seen on the occasion of his search visit to 
her father’s house, and whose bold notice of herself 
had given her anything but pleasure. His manner 
now was respectful, if a little too friendly. 

“ I am delighted to see you. Miss O’Loghlin,” he 
said, if only to congratulate you on being safe 
from such intrusions as that which first gave me 
the occasion of making your acquaintance. As you 
are now under the protection of Mr Ingoldesby, I 
have no longer the power to annoy you. That 
I ever had the will to do so, I hope you will 
believe ” 

** Certainly,” said Brona, '' I know the law, and 
that you are bound by your duty. We have long 
been accustomed to live in fear of the law. Even 
now we live only at the sufferance of a good neigh- 
bour. But it is kind of you to let us know that you 
wish us well.” 

'' Miss O’Loghlin, I wish more than that,” said 
Slaughterhouse. I wish to make your welfare 
one with my own.” 


222 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


Brona felt a thrill of dread. What did this 
speech portend ? Was one danger escaped only 
that another might be encountered ? 

'' Pray do not be uneasy about us,” she said. 
“ As you say, we are safe for the present, and my 
father is enjoying a spell of peace.” 

'' But will it last ? ” persisted Slaughterhouse. 
'' Ingoldesby is a good fellow, but human nature is 
human nature, and after all if he should change his 
mind you are at his mercy.” 

'' Even so,” said Brona, “ but I think he will not 
change. Meanwhile let us live our lives in some kind 
of security, even if it be only short or imaginary.” 

'' I would make it real and lasting,” said the 
Colonel. '' I am a blunt soldier. Miss O’Loghlin, 

but I must beg you to give me a hearing. Marry 
me, and I engage that you shall have no further 
trouble.” 

** You mean to be very good. Colonel Slaughter- 
house,” said Brona, “ and I am grateful for your 
thought about me. But what you ask me to do is im- 
possible. I have promised to remain with my father.” 

** I will take care of your father, with you, as no 
other can take care of him. Ingoldesby means well, 
but his power is not sufficient. On several accounts 
he is likely to fall under suspicion himself.” 

“ I hope not,” said Brona. '' That would be a 
sad result of his protection of us. And you, sir, if 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


223 


protecting the oppressed brings suspicion on the 
protector, then why should you subject yourself 
to a like misfortune ? ” 

Mine is a different position from Ingoldesby's. 
I am employed and trusted by the authorities. I 
have friends in power. As my wife you may keep 
your own religion without fear of harm to anyone. 
I shall be able to arrange for that. Marriage with 
any other Protestant would be the ruin of your 
husband, unless you were to conform within a 
year. I should cease to admire you if I thought 
you could be induced to forswear your conscience. 
I can promise you freedom in this as in every other 
matter of importance. I have wealth enough to 
ensure you indulgence of all the pleasures you have 
had to forgo in this detestable country. You shall 
live anywhere you please.’' 

Brona began to feel a dread of the urgency of the 
man’s manner, and the masterful haste with which 
he continued to put before her the advantages of her 
consent to his wooing. 

“You are very good, but indeed it cannot be,” 
she kept repeating at each pause in his argument, 
and began to walk more quickly, hoping to reach 
home and escape from him before she lost patience 
and provoked him to anger by betraying her dislike 
of him. He showed more forbearance, however, 
than she had expected. 


224 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


'' I see I have startled you/' he said at last. 
“ I meant to have approached you more delicately, 
but, as I have said, I am a blunt soldier, and the 
temptation of an unlooked-for opportunity has 
been too much for me. I will not accept your 
denial now. I beg you to consider all I have said, 
and at some future time to give me another hearing. 
I will now venture to present myself to your excellent 
father, merely to congratulate him on his return to 
health, and on his present position of some degree 
of security.” 

Brona did not dare to refuse the visit to her father, 
putting his safety before all feelings of her own, not 
knowing what evils might be the consequence of 
defiance of this man who claimed to have power 
which her ignorance could not measure or estimate. 

O good Lord ! here's Slaughterhouse ! Where's 
the priest ? '' said Thady as he saw his young 
mistress approaching the house with her strange 
escort. 

'' The Father's in his cell safe enough,'' said Mrs 
MacCurtin, '' and sure let him come. He can't do 
harm to us now ; we all belong to Ingoldesby ! '' 

'' O wirra ! '' said Thady, “it's myself that 
doesn't believe in e'er a mother's son o' them all, 
that would burn the whole of us one by one, and 
laugh at the fun of it.'' 

“ Go and open the door to him, an' don't be a 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


225 


fool/’ said Mrs MacCurtin, '' and look as glad to 
see him as if he was Michael the Archangel instead 
of Satan himself.” 

Thady obeyed this order to the best of his ability, 
and that evening in the servants’ quarters told how 
he had perceived that Slaughterhouse had jaws like 
a tiger and the eyes of a wolf, which was drawing 
largely on his imagination, seeing that the Colonel 
was rather a fine-looking soldier, and that Thady 
had never seen in the flesh either wolf or tiger. 

The Colonel approached Morogh with an assump- 
tion of deference and sympathy, and was received 
with such gentlemanly courtesy as made him feel 
that his visit was understood to be merely a graceful 
act expressive of conciliation. Brona gave her 
father no hint of his embarrassing proposals to 
herself. On this, as on many other disturbing 
matters, she was bound to be silent, and her father 
rested in the belief that amiability of the formidable 
Slaughterhouse was an unexpected and agreeable 
consequence of the friendship of Ingoldesby. 


15 


XXXI 

Hugh continued his study of the books which he 
had refused to leave in Brona’s keeping, and every 
night in the still hours before the dawn, he gave 
his mind to the fascination exercised over it by 
the radiant spirit gone centuries ago from amidst 
the earth’s clouds and perplexities. With the first 
whisper and pipe of birds and gush of fragrance 
from waking wild-flowers, with the earliest gleam 
of pale eastern lights that grew to golden flame, 
he began to associate such joys of the soul of man 
as he had never imagined to exist. Every time he 
rose from his reading and pondering, he was as a 
man different from the man he had hitherto known 
himself to be. Of what it meant, of how anything 
real was to come of the change, he had no clear 
perception. 

The lights in the east grew to flame, the birds 
shouted their matins, the air breathed of flowers 
from which sunbeams were drinking the dew. 
Inanimate nature rejoiced. For him, the man, 
226 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


227 


was no rapture. Nothing but the desire to rest 
after a strange and unsatisfying vigil. He wanted 
another thinking and understanding mind with 
which to discuss his growing impression of knowledge 
to come, of light destined to intensify, revealing to 
him things that he had never yet seen. He could 
not talk to Brona, as he never found her alone. 
He began to suspect that she was trying to protect 
him from himself, and the thought sounded an 
alarm to his courage. The suggestion that a talk 
with Father Aengus would help him was rejected 
several times before he decided to act on it. But 
at last one day he said to Brona : 

Could I be permitted to see the Father in his 
cell ? I should be glad to have a little conversa- 
tion with him, and there is no other way. Will 
he trust me ? 

** He will trust you. He is there now,” said 
Brona. Shall I speak to him ? ” 

The Father’s response to the request was a warm 
invitation. 

Hugh was led by Brona, by the secret stairs and 
passages that led to the little dungeon where the 
humble Franciscan lived with his God. He found 
him writing at a small table on which were some 
books and a crucifix. At sight of the spare brown 
figure and the pallid face, Hugh remembered 
vividly his encounter with this man in the bog. 


228 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


and felt wonder and remorse sting and touch him 
keenly. With a passing thrill of amazement at his 
own conduct, Ingoldesby stood with bent head as 
Brona left and closed the door on him. 

You are welcome, Mr Ingoldesby,” said the 
friar. “Not everyone would care to pay a visit to 
this dark little den.” 

“You believe it is a friendly visit ? ” said Hugh. 
“ I am anxious to make you feel that I am worthy 
of your brave trust. Not every man would have 
courage to receive me here considering all the 
circumstances.” 

“ Have I not every reason for such trust ? ” said 
Father Aengus. “You are the saviour of this 
family from misfortune which they do not deserve. 
As for me I am nothing but a casual, a tramp in the 
service of God. I live only to help others. If I 
can help you in any way, or in any degree, let me 
know how to do it.” 

“ I will go to the point at once,” said Hugh. 
“ I have come across these books by accident, and 
have been reading them. I would like to talk to 
you about them. Will you tell me what kind of a 
man he was who wrote them ? Was he a mere 
poet and dreamer, or did he do anything of service 
to the world ? ” 

“ He was certainly no useless dreamer ; he did 
very noble service to the world of his days, service 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


229 


for the lasting benefit of the world of all days. He 
was a man of active life and practical abilities, 
industrious, energetic in business, shrewd, prudent, 
and courageous. To form an idea of his character 
you should study all his writings — these books are 
only a part of them. You will find him neither a 
dreamer of fantastic dreams, nor a stern taskmaster, 
but a saint with a passionate love of his God, and, 
for God’s sake, of his neighbour ; besides being, as 
I have said, a man of eminent common sense, 
whose life was full of useful and very practical 
work.” 

“ How can I get these other writings ? ” asked 
Hugh. I am greatly attracted by his luminous 
thought. It impresses me with a power which no 
mere poet ever exerted over me. The noblest 
speculations of pagan philosophy, and the deepest 
wisdom of the Scriptures, have evidently fed his 
lofty mind. It amazes me that he should have 
been also a worker in practical affairs.” 

''Ah, yes,” said the friar, " the world has a false 
conception of the mind of a saint, who may be at 
once poet and philosopher, religious and contem- 
plative, yet fit for the ordinary duties of life, and 
in full possession of practical and social virtue and 
capacity.” 

" I confess I have known nothing of the saints,” 
said Ingoldesby. " A mind such as the mind of 


230 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


this man attracts my admiration. That is all. I 
would like to see deeper into it.” 

” I can lend you his books,” said Father Aengus, 
” if you venture to have them in your house.” 

” I think I am above suspicion,” said Hugh, 
” and may be allowed as a well-rooted Protestant 
to read what I please. And about the other saints 
of whom I have not the slightest knowledge, except 
as I have seen them in church windows or in the 
paintings of the old masters prized for the sake of 
art, can you afford me also a little insight into the 
meanings of their strange lives and teachings ? ” 

” St Thomas Aquinas, for instance,” said the 
priest. '' St Augustine ? ” 

” These I know by name, and I possess a volume 
of each, unread. I would be glad to begin with 
them,” said Ingoldesby. 

'' Here are more to begin with. But remember 
I have not pressed them on you, nor have I invited 
you here. I have laid no plot to lead you to my 
own way of thinking. Faith is of God. If He is 
drawing you nearer to Him, He will do it in His own 
way. Meanwhile I say again be careful. You may 
be beyond suspicion, but a man so straight and 
sincere may have dangerous enemies in quite 
unexpected quarters.” 

This was only the beginning of a conversation 
which lasted for some hours, and when Hugh 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


231 


departed he carried his loan of dangerous books 
as openly under his arm as though they had been 
the works of the most approved ancient pagans, 
or the latest production of that then rather rare 
litUrateur, the English novelist. Evening after 
evening he gave his mind to the reading of these 
books, and one night was sitting rapt in the study 
when he was interrupted by Colonel Slaughter- 
house, claiming hospitality, declaring that he was 
tired and hungry, that his life was worse than a 
dog’s life, and that he was not going to bear it 
much longer. 

' ■ My men are all over the country,” he said, 
“ and in ill-humour because they have been finding 
little to do, and have been earning no rewards. 
Truth is I have tried to restrain them, but it is 
little use. Some other man will have to lead them 
soon — some fresh hand.” 

Hugh supplied all his wants of the hour, and 
afterwards the two men sat at the open window, 
while the moon rose over the mysterious bog, and 
the night mists flitted across it, like penitential 
spirits, in the ghostly gleam. The lamplight from 
within the room fell on the open book laid down 
by Hugh on the visitor’s entrance, and Slaughter- 
house threw the end of his cigar out of the window 
and took up the volume. 

'' Hello ! ” he said ; '' Popish books ! ” and then 


232 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


he looked through the pages for some minutes, while 
Hugh sat tranquilly watching him. 

At last the Colonel closed the book with a slap 
and threw it on the table. 

Now look here, Ingoldesby,” he said ; “ Fve 
come here to you as a friend to a friend. You have 
given me meat and drink, and I will give you what 
is better, a word of advice. You are a proud, 
independent fellow, and as such I admire you. 
But don’t let your pride run away with you in a 
conceit that you can be supposed to do no wrong 
in the eye of the law, and that you can dabble as 
much as you like in the mire of Popery without 
suspicion of defilement.” 

“ I don’t,” said Ingoldesby smiling. ” Am I not 
the model of a law-abiding gentleman ? My hands 
are clean of mire of any sort, whether of Popery or 
of a law in a state of corruption.” 

” Corruption on both sides. Keep out of 
it all.” 

” I have not found any between the covers of 
the book you are condemning. Nothing but the 
highest thought, the noblest teaching that the 
heart and brain of man have ever conceived. If 
I may not think such thoughts or examine such 
teaching, what then do you provide for me ? Is a 
man not the master of his own conscience ? ” 

” Not in this country. How can you ask such a 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


233 


question in a land where the air is hissing with the 
promises of bribery ? Where the ultimate penalty 
of disobedience to the law is death ? 

'' My neck is safe, however,’’ said Hugh laughing. 
** Have another glass of wine. Slaughterhouse, and 
a good night’s sleep, and you will have no more 
nightmares.” 

I see you will not take me seriously,” said the 
Colonel. '' Yet I am giving you a friendly warning. 
You have associated yourself in an extraordinary 
manner with Catholics, and at the same time retired 
from the society of your Protestant neighbours. 
And now, if you are caught stud5dng Papistical 
literature, you may find yourself an object of 
suspicion, which a false word from an enemy may 
change into certainty in the judgment of those who 
can strip you of everything.” 

Well, you see, I have you between me and 
the danger,” said Hugh with another confident 
smile. 

'' You may not have me long. I am sick of the 
work I have to do. I think of getting out of it all, 
marrying and going to live in some less miserable 
country. Another man who will have his fortune 
to make (rot who will, to manure his own new 
possessions) will take my place. When I have left 
the service, I shall have to wash my hands of 
you.” 


234 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


“ I am sorry for that/’ said Ingoldesby. 

Think over what I have said. Now I will take 
your hospitable offer and go to bed. Don’t sit 
up all night reading this dangerous trash,” said 
Slaughterhouse going. 


XXXII 

On a radiant midsummer morning Brona set out 
for the Mass Rock, arriving there at sunrise to find 
a congregation waiting for the coming of Father 
Aengus, who had not appeared. The priest had 
gone the evening before to give the last Sacraments 
to a dying man, at a considerable distance from the 
Castle. He had not expected to return that night, 
but had intended to meet the people at the Mass 
Rock by sunrise on the following morning. 

As time passed and the familiar brown figure 
was not seen hastening across the bog, the people 
became uneasy and began to disperse. It was 
dangerous to linger there. Slaughterhouse’s men 
were known to be abroad. The priest might have 
had a timely warning to lie by in some of the hiding- 
places, in hollow tree, or ruined wall, or cave under 
rocks, which were his refuge when in fear of a sur- 
prise. It were safer for him and for them that they 
should separate and get back to their homes. And 
so they crept away, in ones and twos and threes, 
235 


236 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


by cuttings in the bog, by passages between rocks, 
and by stepping-stones and planks of bogwood 
across pools and lake-like sheets of bog-water. 

Brona waited long, and was the last to turn her 
face towards home, where she hoped to find the 
Father in his cell. But Father Aengus had not 
returned to the Castle. He was not in his cell, nor 
had he been seen or heard of by anyone in the house 
or in the neighbourhood since the previous evening. 
Such an unexpected absence was not quite unusual, 
and yet was always a cause for great anxiety to his 
friends and clients. In some one of his lonely 
hiding-places, scarcely known even to his friends, 
he might lie, starved and chilled, till illness from 
exhaustion might seize him, and death put an end 
to his sufferings before aid could find him. 

'' Ah,” said Thady, sure the bell isn’t more 
buried in the heart of a tree than himself maybe 
this minute. An’ ne’er a shout out of him like 
the ringin’ of the same bell, though nobody can 
find it.” 

'' Don’t be a false prophet, Thady Quin,” said Mrs 
MacCurtin. ” The Father will be back in his cell safe 
and sound, as many a time he was, after the hearts 
had been squez out of us with fright about him.” 

Brona could not rest, and Hugh met her crossing 
the bog alone in search of the object of so much 
general anxiety. 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


237 


What is the matter ? ” he asked. “ Is your 
father ill ? Or you yourself ? ” 

'' We are ill with anxiety about Father Aengus. 
That is all. But it is an ill that means much. 
How terrible if we were to lose our only friend in 
God ! ” 

''I do not believe that Slaughterhouse would 
allow him to be harmed.” 

'' I trust not,” said Brona ; but her faith 
in Slaughterhouse was hardly so absolute as 
Ingoldesby's. 

It was a glorious midsummer day. The brown 
and golden moor, with its seams of purple and 
flashes of watery light, the grey violet hills, the 
darkling woods, the ripening fields, the blue sea 
with its fringes of green, all lay under a benediction 
of brooding sunshine, like the approving smile of 
an infinitely loving God. Going by unfrequented 
paths they met no living creature. Hugh found a 
longed-for opportunity for talking to Brona of 
many things which he did not care to discuss in the 
presence of others, and Brona listened, thrilling 
with hopes and fears which she did not dare to put 
into words. Thus many hours passed while they 
travelled an area of some miles, visiting hovels and 
cabins where lay the sick and needy, who were the 
particular objects of the charity of Father Aengus. 
But no one had seen the Father or heard from him. 


238 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


At last they found the dying man to whom he had 
administered the last Sacraments on the previous 
evening. The visit of consolation had been happily 
paid, and the Father had departed as usual just 
at nightfall. He had been seen to cross the bog by 
the light of the rising moon, but further than a 
shadowy fold in the land nobody had tracked him. 
Coming to a group of ruined walls with a half-fallen 
tower, Hugh made his way up a narrow winding 
stair to a hiding-place among tumbled stones to 
which Brona directed him. 

'' He may be lying there, stricken with illness,’* 
she said. '' I have always feared that some day 
we should so find him.” 

Hugh reached the spot with difficulty, but it was 
empty, and a call of the Father’s name produced no 
answer. A hollow tree, a cave under rocks, were 
explored, the name of Father Aengus was whispered 
in silent, almost inaccessible places, and all to no 
purpose, till at last Ingoldesby insisted on Brona’s 
returning home, saying that in all probability the 
hours they had spent in their quest had brought 
the friar back safely to Castle O’Loghlin. That 
expectation was disappointed however. The priest 
was still absent, and had not been heard of. 

After a sleepless night Brona was on the moor 
again, and again was met by Hugh bent on 
accompanying her. Turning their faces in a 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


239 


different direction from that travelled the day 
before, they followed the same plan of search, 
Brona going into the cabins, and asking questions 
of everyone she met on the way. The only informa- 
tion she gained was of the fact that a band of soldiery 
had been seen hanging about the countryside 
during the last few days. They had made raids on 
some of the better class of houses. It was hoped 
that they had now passed on elsewhere, but the 
terrified people spoke of their doings in whispers. 
That day’s search also proved unavailing, and on 
the third morning Hugh came early to the Castle 
to beg that Brona would not undertake another 
such long fatiguing quest, but would stay at home 
with her father and try to divert his thoughts 
from the anxiety of the moment. 

Alas ! ” said Brona, he cannot take any com- 
fort till the truth is known. He will be better 
satisfied if he is assured that every effort is being 
made. That our friend is lying ill and desolate 
somewhere is certain, and I may possibly be, of all 
the searchers, the one to find him.” 

And so another day’s travel began. Brona tried 
in vain to persuade Ingoldesby that he was en- 
dangering his own safety by displaying such open 
sympathy with a felon, and with the friends 
whom he was supposed to have condemned and 
betrayed to the executors of the law. He per- 


240 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


sisted in supporting her throughout this hour of 
increasing tribulation. 

My lot is my own,” he said. “ I have drawn 
it. Let me take it. There are things that must 
be done without thought of danger. If not, your 
resolute priest would never have set foot in this 
cruelly misgoverned country.” 

So they set out again, Hugh heavy-hearted, 
dreading a further impending trial for Brona, and 
Brona weighted with sorrow and fear for everyone 
concerned but herself. Occasionally they met 
people pretending to be gathering turf or cutting 
heather, or dragging bog-wood out of the water, 
all eagerly on the search for Father Aengus. A 
whisper with averted eyes was their greeting of 
Brona. Slaughterhouse’s men might be lurking 
on the watch behind some rock or bush, and words 
that the wind might carry were better unspoken. 
There had been scarcely a breeze all day. Radiant 
sunshine transfigured every feature of the land. 
The mountains seemed absorbed in a rapture of 
worship, the motionless sea raised blue eyes dim 
with dreams to the sky, a mantle of glory had 
descended on the darkling woods. All nature was 
lost in adoration of the Creator of so much 
splendour. 

As if in prevision of what is to come, 
never yet sighted by mortal eyes, never felt by 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


241 


creature or things/’ said Brona, pausing to 
rest against a thorn tree that looked at the 
moment like the Scriptural burning bush that 
hid the Lord. 

As the ** westering wheel ” of the sun, having 
made heaven’s descent, reached the mountains’ 
brow, and seemed to rest there, the wind began to 
rise in short gusts, and clouds that had hung about 
all day in golden laziness shook off their languor and 
hurried about the sky, making for the west, as if 
obeying some mysterious mandate to signal the 
end of so much magnificence by veiling the glory 
so soon to become extinct. By the time these 
gusts of wind had freshened, and the clouded 
western sky had taken the appearance of a gory 
battlefield after the fray, Brona and Hugh had 
reached a spot skirting the bog, on its distant 
side from Castle O’Loghlin. They had passed 
the spot before, and had seen nothing unusual 
in the rough stems and thick growth of the 
branching trees hanging over their heads. Sud- 
denly Brona uttered a piercing cry, and fell with 
her face to the sod. 

'' O God ! O God, he is there ! ” 

Hugh stooping to support her raised his eyes 
to the trees and saw what she had seen — the 
flutter of a brown gown, the swing of a sandalled 

foot as the wind swept the boughs aside ; and 

16 


242 O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 

for a moment the pallid face of the Franciscan 
gleamed on him, and vanished as the boughs 
closed again and hid it. Slaughterhouse's men 
had not left the neighbourhood without earning 
their money. 


XXXIII 

At midnight by the glimmer of a watery moon 
Father Aengus was taken down from the tree of his 
martyrdom into reverent arms, and laid in the grave 
hastily dug for him, his crucifix on his breast, his 
brown robe folded about his limbs ; no coffin, no 
shroud, lest delay should see the return of the 
executioners to desecrate this holy resting-place, 
and to dishonour the mortal shell that had housed 
the soul of a saint and a Christian soldier. In- 
goldesby and Thady were present at the strange 
funeral. 

'' I seen him put in,’’ said Thady hanging over 
the fire in the small hours with Mrs MacCurtin. 

He’s close to the old Mass Rock, as he has a 
right to be. Oh, then when will the Mass be said 
there again, now he’s gone ? An’ nobody to come 
after him till God sends us another warrior to fight 
for Him, and the masther dyin’ without the priest, 
an’ no Sacraments to comfort him. An’ that’ll be 
the sore end to his troubles. For dyin’ he is, an’ 
243 


244 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


no wonder after one thing and another that has 
happened to him. Turlough to have turned out 
a rascal on him, and the Protestant to have got the 
estate, and Miss Brona to be left desolate, and 
himself to be dyin’ without a priest to bring the 
Lord to him.” 

Whisht now, Thady,” said Mrs MacCurtin, 
wiping her eyes. “ Sure you know well that 
Morogh O’Loghlin lyin’ on his bed up there is well 
able to die without the priest. If he wasn’t 
wouldn’t God have waited a bit for Father Aengus, 
bad as He might have wanted to get him in heaven ? 
And didn’t the Father tell us that the Lord Himself 
will come to us dyin’ without e’er a one to bring 
Him, or give Him the whisper that He’s wanted ? 
Do y’ think it is the doctor we’re talkin’ about that 
needs a word to be sent to him, or how would he 
know a body was sick ? And for Miss Brona, it’s 
easy to have a guess about who’s goin’ to take 
care of her. The Protestant that has us owned at 
present is not goin’ to be a Protestant long.” 

Tush, my good woman ! ” said Thady. “ If 
you want to know an honest man’s real mind about 
that — I don’t believe in one o’ them. Is it two 
estates down to his name and throw them both 
over his shoulder ? Do y’ want to put him even 
with the masther that’s a dying saint, and Father 
Aengus that’s a martyr ? ” 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


245 


Fm takin’ nothin’ to do with either odds or 
evens,” said Mrs MacCurtin, “ only sayin’ plain 
what I see, an’ I with my two eyes open.” 

Well, my two eyes is gettin’ shut,” said Thady, 
** an’ small blame to them, between salt tears an’ 
never a wink o’ sleep this many a night ; besides 
the sight I seen at the Mass Rock a couple of hours 
ago, that nearly cut the light out o’ them, lavin’ 
you blind, Thady Quin, for the rest of the time you 
have to be in it.” 

Brona knew that her father was on his deathbed. 
The cruel martyrdom of his tender comforter and 
spiritual friend and counsellor had dealt him a final 
blow, and he lay prostrate in the death sickness 
of gradual heart failure, a little weaker every day, 
with no hope from his physician of his recovery. 
Ingoldesby stood by Brona, coming every day to 
relieve her watch, undeterred by her protests as 
to his danger, or by the warnings of Slaughterhouse. 
Sometimes he stayed the night, if immediate death 
seemed imminent. In those quiet hours alone with 
the dying man, listening to his murmured prayers 
of resignation and thanksgiving, the latent con- 
victions of his own mind and heart forced their way 
to their place in his most living thoughts, and a 
resolution was taken which at that time he confided 
to no one. 

How these Catholics die ! ” he said to himself. 


246 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


How they bear to live, and how they die ! ’’ 
And he began to pray in the words he had learned 
from St Augustine. 

Mrs MacCurtin was right when she said that 
Morogh was able to die without the priest, since 
God had deprived him of all spiritual help. 

“ Brona,” he said, I know you are grieving 
because I have to die without the Sacraments. 
But have good heart. I always thought I should 
have our dear saint beside me at this hour ; but 
God has taken all such anxious desire away from 
me. He is coming Himself Who is the Sacrament. 
Already I hear His approach. He is coming across 
the bog. He is at the Mass Rock. Father Aengus 
is with Him, and others. I see Columba and the 
Culdee. Patrick and Bridget, and the Holy 
Mother herself will be of the company. Already 
this room is filling with the angels in waiting 
for them.” 

Brona was holding his hand and watching the 
smile as of great bliss brightening on his face. 

Presently they heard him say with a loud and 
happy cry : 

” Welcome, a hundred thousand times welcome, 
my Divine Master ! Amen. Come, Lord Jesus ! ” 

With the last word his soul passed. 

They made his grave in the ancient ruined 
Corcomroe Abbey, in the open windswept chancel. 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


247 


near the sculptured tomb of King Conor O’Brien. 
And after all was done Brona stood like the shadow 
of herself, alone of all her family, in Castle O’Loghlin. 

Aideen had not been able to come to her. Fur- 
lough had fought a duel in a gaming-house, and was 
ill of a mortal wound. She had left her harbour 
in the convent and was nursing him, striving to 
save his useless life, and to bring peace to his soul. 
Her letter to Brona breathed of anguish which was 
little tempered by hope. Of all who had been hers 
in her home, Brona had no one by her except the 
faithful and affectionate old servants. But out- 
side her walls there was still the devotion of 
Ingoldesby. 


XXXIV 

Mary Delany hastened from her garden to her 
husband in his study. 

'' Morogh O'Loghlin is dead/' she said. '' They 
have hanged the priest who was his comforter, and 
the shock has killed my friend. Hugh Ingoldesby 
has written to me. The girl is alone at Castle 
O’Loghlin, and Hugh is concerned about her." 

Dr Delany joined his finger-tips together as if 
about to pray or preach, and looked mildly over 
his spectacles. 

“ My dear love," he said, this is sad news. But 
there is nothing that you or I can do in the circum- 
stances. The girl is already a nun, and will find 
a home in a French convent. Don't let us follow 
Hugh's lead by entangling ourselves in Catholic 
movements. Rumour says that he has greatly 
injured his reputation as an upholder of the State 
by his interest in Papists and their affairs." 

A slight frown crossed Mrs Delany 's sunny face, 
and she said quickly, " I love Brona O’Loghlin for 

248 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


249 


her own sake, and be she Papist or Hindoo, I will 
show her any kindness I can in her day of need/' 
Right, right, my love,” said the Dean. But 
what is her need ? Where are the French aunt and 
the troublesome brother ? What occasion can you 
have to interfere ? ” 

“ The graceless Turlough is ill from his own folly, 
and his adoring aunt is nursing him.” 

The Dean shook his head. “ Pity Hugh had not 
allowed the young man to step into his father’s 
shoes. The estate would have been saved for the 
family and the name carried on, and the county 
at the same time would have secured another good 
Protestant landholder.” 

'' At the sacrifice of conscience ! ” said Mrs 
Delany reproachfully. 

” My dear, don’t speak like that to anyone but 
me, or you may be quite misunderstood. There 
is an extreme, an exaggerated conscience that leads 
persons astray, and which ought not to be taken 
into consideration. But do as you please, my love, 
and I trust that your husband’s reputation and 
position will shield you from the consequences of 
your too good-natured action.” 

An hour later Hugh presented himself in person 
to Mrs Delany, who received him with even more 
than her usual kindness. 

'' Tell me all about it,” she said. 


250 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


When she had heard the details of the O’Loghlin 
tragedy, she proceeded to act with the good nature 
which her husband had disapproved and yet 
sanctioned. 

'' Any service I can do Miss O’Loghlin shall be 
done for her own sake,” she said, '' but after that, 
when we have seen her safely into a French convent, 
you will, I hope, cease your dangerous association 
with the Catholics of your county. Already you 
are under some suspicion.” 

I have had a letter from Slaughterhouse,” said 
Hugh smiling, '' warning me that I am known to 
have assisted at the cutting down and at the burial 
of the long-hunted and finally-captured priest, the 
Franciscan friar who for some years had infested 
the district of Burren. Also, that under pretence 
of discovering on a Papist property-holder, I have 
mixed myself up with the affairs of his family, 
and have been present at his godless deathbed.” 

” Well ? ” said Mrs Delany, '' does it not prove 
that I am right ? I will go to Clare and fetch Miss 
O’Loghlin here to stay with me till she can make 
her own arrangements. And you, I beg of you, 
leave the country at once, and avoid trouble that 
is evidently impending.” 

According to Slaughterhouse, it has been 
impending for a long time,” said Hugh. ” I will 
reply to him that I intend to save him the trouble 


OTOGHLIN OF CLARE 


251 


of doing his worst by the step I am about to take. 
To-morrow morning I shall be received into the 
Catholic Church.'' 

“ Are you quite mad ? " 

If I were ever mad, at all events I am now sane. 
In the kingdom of God is sanity, on earth as it is in 
heaven." 

You will lose everything for love of a woman ! " 
cried Mary Delany. 

On the contrary, it is the love of a woman 
that has saved me. Dear friend, I am grieved to 
distress you, for I know that your distress is 
as genuine as my own would have been some 
time ago if one I loved had told me what I tell 
you to-day." 

“ I am indeed bitterly distressed. You will 
marry Brona ? " 

'' If she will take me now. At present she is in 
ignorance of the decision I have arrived at by the 
grace of God, and that only. No one, not you, nor 
Slaughterhouse, nor any of my friends or well- 
wishers, has been as anxious as she has been to 
shield me from worldly ruin by her warnings, and 
by her avoidance of my company. But that was 
when she feared I might not be thorough from any 
point of view — that I might lose the shadow with- 
out gaining the substance, if I may be allowed to 
reverse the order of the fable." 


252 O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 

'' Your worldly ruin ! ” echoed Mary Delany 
ruefully. 

Not that either,” said Hugh smiling. ” It 
will, indeed, be good-bye to the county of Clare. 
Some lucky fellow will pick up two nice properties 
no doubt, and there will be some laughter at the fool 
who threw them both out of his hands for the sake 
of a woman, or, granting me sincerity of conscience, 
then for the sake of a dream. I know it all so well, 
because I was in the swim of it myself so recently. 
But my wife and I will have sufficient means left 
for a happy life in some country where a man is 
allowed to live by his conscience, and to follow, if 
he will, in the footsteps of the saints.” 

” Which saints ? ” asked Mrs Delany sadly. 

” A large question,” said Hugh brightly. I 
have known some saints already on this side of the 
great boundary. I shall have one by my side. And 
now, dear friend, so interested for me, so patient 
with me, I know what your eyes are looking at, and 
I know what they cannot see. But let us join hands 
in Christian charity, which in itself is a communion 
of saints, and let nothing break our friendship.” 

” Nothing, indeed, on my side,” said Mrs Delany. 

As I have said, I should wish to go to Clare and 
bring Brona here.” 

” You are good,” said Hugh. ” Will you come 
back with me to Ardcurragh ? ” 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


253 


What will Miss Ingoldesby say if she comes to 
save you from ruin, and finds me countenancing 
you ? ” 

''No fear of that. My good narrow-minded 
aunt will avoid me in future as she would fly a 
pestilence.’' 


XXXV 

Brona was packing to leave her home, sitting on a 
trunk already filled, a mournful letter from Aideen 
in her hand. Turlough was still alive, and Aideen 
could not leave him, so Brona must prepare to 
come to her. MacDonogh was to sail in a few days, 
and would bring her safely to France. 

'' Your old friends in the convent will be glad to 
receive you,” wrote Aideen, '' and I have enough 
of my little fortune left to enable us to live here till 
we see further.” 

Hugh was in Dublin. The lonely girl asked herself 
whether she ought to wait for his return, or depart 
without saying farewell to him, perhaps for ever. 
She must, at all events, be ready to start as soon 
as MacDonogh should call for her. 

Reading the letter yet once again, clinging to it 
as a link between the past of love and the present 
of desolation, she was interrupted by the arrival 
of Hugh. She went to him with the letter in her 
hand. 


254 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


255 


1 am glad you have come/' she said. '' I 
did not like going without saying good-bye to 
you.” 

“You would not have done that,” he said. 
“ But Mrs Delany has a better way arranged for 
you. She has come to take you to Delville. She 
has written to your aunt and to MacDonogh. She 
is coming to see you this afternoon. Meanwhile, 
will you come for a walk with me, a farewell walk ? 
For I too am leaving the county of Clare, perhaps 
never to return.” 

“ Oh, no,” said Brona, “it is doubly your home 
now, and all difficulties are cleared from your 
path. But, yes, I would like to take that walk 
with you.” 

They walked through the sunshine towards the 
Mass Rock. Both knew that they were going to 
pay a farewell visit to the grave of the murdered 
Franciscan. 

“ Let us rest here awhile,” said Hugh, finding her 
a seat on a ridge of stone, “ and let us have a little 
talk. You said just now that difficulties have been 
cleared from my path.” 

“ Yes,” said Brona. “ We shall all be gone. 
And I am glad, as we have had to be blotted out, 
that it is you who are to stand in my father’s place. 
You have no longer that prejudice against the faith 
of the people which you used to have, and you will 


256 O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 

be kind to them. You will have much power, being 
the owner of two properties instead of one.’’ 

'' All that would be of no kind of benefit to me 
unless I could share it with you.” 

Brona’s eyes darkened with pain. 

'' Don’t ! ” she said. Why will you spoil the last 
hour we have to be together ? ” 

'' I don’t want to spoil this happy hour,” he said, 

but I must ask you once more, and for all — Brona, 
will you marry me ? ” 

''You are not generous. You know the sad dif- 
ference that keeps us apart.” 

" I do not know it. We are one in heart, and one 
in faith.” 

" Faith ? ” 

" Yes, faith. I have been received into the 
Catholic Church. No, don’t look so shocked, my 
dearest. I have done it from no unworthy 
motive.” 

"For me ? ” said Brona, with a white light on 
her face, her lips trembling. " Oh, no, God will 
not be played with.” 

Hugh took her hands, and held them while he 
smiled in her eyes. 

" My dear, you have not been the cause, only the 
instrument. God has taken so absolute a grip of 
me that I could not escape Him if you were not in 
the world. As you are in the world, and as we may 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 


257 

live in it together henceforward, I am most devoutly 
thankful/’ 

Brona had bowed her head on the hands that 
were holding hers so tightly. 

'' You must give me time to realise it,” she said. 
” It is too amazing.” 

” You are not more amazed than I have been, 
but already it seems so natural that I feel as if I had 
been born and baptised into the Catholic Church. 
For the rest, we shall not starve. We can live 
frugally in Italy.” 

Mrs Delany was waiting for 'them when they 
returned to Castle O’Loghlin. Seeing the two 
bright faces that met her troubled eyes, she 
marvelled at that supernatural Something which 
was so radiantly real for them, and had no kind 
of existence for her. 

She did not venture to speak of it, only said : 

” You will come and make your home with me, 
my dear, until things are settled.” 

Brona made no objection. She was in Hugh’s 
hands now. The next day another visit of farewell 
was paid to the grave of Morogh O’Loghlin in the 
ancient abbey, Brona’s favourite haunt in the days 
of her sad and meditative girlhood. Arrangements 
were made with the old servants to stay in the 
Castle until directed to join their mistress in her 
new home after her marriage. 


17 


258 


O’LOGHLIN OF CLARE 


They were wedded in the little secret chapel of 
Miss Crilly’s “ nunnery ” in Dorset Street, and left 
Ireland for Italy immediately afterwards. 

Hugh Ingoldesby’s conversion to Popish ways 
remained for ever an enigma to Mary Delany, but 
she delighted in her visits to the modest little home 
at Fiesole, where the Ingoldesbys, in the small 
house and large garden which was the ideal of 
Horace, found ample scope for the doings of an 
active as well as an intellectual life. For which 
curiously inconsistent and scandalously liberal 
conduct she had to suffer the loss of the friendship 
of Miss Jacquetta Ingoldesby. 

A few years later Hugh’s old acquaintance, 
Colonel Slaughterhouse, wrote to him : 

I am glad to hear you are so happy in your own 
peculiar fashion, and I am sure you will feel no 
displeasure at the fact that the estates of Ardcurragh 
and Castle O’Loghlin have devolved on me. You 
know how often I warned you of danger, and until 
you had quite cut yourself off I had no intention of 
stepping into your shoes. For the rest, someone 
had to do it, and the someone might as well be me. 

You had heard that the title of Earl of Donegore 
is to go with the estates. I do not care much for 
titles myself, but my wife (whom you knew as Lady 
Kitty Carteret) fancies it, and naturally I am pleased 
to gratify her. 

It may be noted here that a certain Hon. Captain 
Slaughterhouse who distinguished himself in the 


OXOGHLIN OF CLARE 259 

Boer War boasts of his descent from an ancient 
and honourable family in the county of Clare. 

But (as the people pray) '' the light of heaven to 
them — the ancients whose mortality sleeps in the 
sanctuary at Corcomroe, and in the heart of the 
Burren bog beside the old Mass Rock under the 
tree of the martyr, — the last of the O’Loghlins, 
Kings of Burren, and the Franciscan who lived and 
died in the service of his Lord ! 


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